<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>friends found in flowers by Coordinator</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518952">friends found in flowers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coordinator/pseuds/Coordinator'>Coordinator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Content Warning in the First Note at the End, F/F, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:55:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>67,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coordinator/pseuds/Coordinator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Books are neat things.<br/>You can tidy them up, bind them, and be satisfied that they end.<br/>Stories, on the other hand, never end.</p><p>One possible view of where one story concludes, and others begin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Natsuki/Yuri (Doki Doki Literature Club!)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. .prior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=all+those+moving+on">all those moving on</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804435">story about a lily</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Third_Rye/pseuds/Third_Rye">Third_Rye</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>. prior<br/>
<br/>
<em>I held in my hand<br/>
a canvas banner<br/>
decorated with the maps<br/>
of roads and rivers<br/>
traversed so many times</em></p><p>
  <em>setting sail for a place called prior<br/>
where I was told<br/>
I would receive<br/>
something more beautiful<br/>
and precious<br/>
than you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And as this long campaign<br/>
stole away my secrecies<br/>
the desire to reveal them<br/>
was like a fever<br/>
high against my brow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>where the trace of your tender touch<br/>
revealed destinations that were no longer mine<br/>
</em>
  <em>cut through red tape<br/>
in an age of sale.</em>
</p><p><em>Do I resent you?<br/>
<br/>
There's so little of this fire left<br/>
</em> <em>because fire needs air to breath<br/>
</em> <em>and nothing makes sense<br/>
since your innocence<br/>
set me out to sea.</em></p><p><em>No.<br/>
<br/>
I no longer dream<br/>
</em> <em>of a place called prior<br/>
with all its treasured ghosts<br/>
</em> <em>for the golden sunlight of a summer storm<br/>
</em> <em>reminded me of what I </em><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello there, and welcome to friends found in flowers.</p><p>This is not a stand-alone story; it may be very helpful to peruse a <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804435/">'story about a lily'</a> to understand why certain things are the way they are. Nor is it purely a romance story. In fact, a disclaimer; this is not purely a happy story, nor is it especially sad. It's a story about moving on from patterns, with all the struggle and good that can entail. If you're looking for a snapshot of characters you can recognise for their familiar traits, this might not be a fic for you. </p><p>I think fiction like that is very important; sometimes, in the comfort of characters we know well, we can find things that help us through troubled times.</p><p>Despite the warning, most of the content involved is swearing, or subtle. Although the 'parent' story deals with unpleasant, disturbing themes and imagery, there will be slightly less of those in this fic. Nevertheless, even with the subtle imagery I prefer, please consider yourself warned for violence, and physical, mental, and emotional trauma. The entirety of the fic will be posted after I've proofed it a few times. I am expecting the 15th or so, it'll depend.</p><p>I truly hope you enjoy it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. . Flowers of Evil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Just, just try it. Okay? Try <em>reading </em>it. With those biiiiig violet eyes of yours. I know you can do it!”</p><p>For the last couple of...<br/>It had been ages since they'd had a conversation that hadn't fallen into an argument.<br/>Every time Natsuki opened her mouth, Yuri had felt an overwhelming pang of something – nausea, she'd decided.</p><p>It had all begin with the foundation of a refuge, or – in other words – an afterschool club.<br/><br/>She had...<br/>Agreed to it, she thought, or recalled, and the difference between the two was negligible.<br/><br/>First, everything had been good; and then, as <em>always</em> it had fallen apart.<br/>Into repeating and hateful days that made it hard to remember why she even tried.<br/>And the only reason she showed up, the only reason she even dragged herself forward, was...</p><p>
  <em> occasionally, through the window of an eye<br/>she caught a man<br/>or caught sight of him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>he was nervous and shy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>like a deer</em>
</p><p>
  <em>or a phantasm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>sometimes</em>
</p><p>
  <em>she felt he stared at her</em>
</p><p>
  <em>before mumbling indecipherable words</em>
</p><p>
  <em>verbal vomit</em>
</p><p>
  <em>about how much he liked</em>
</p><p>
  <em>shy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>women.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>but</em>
</p><p>
  <em>she</em>
</p><p>
  <em>was</em>
</p><p>
  <em>not</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>shy</strong>
  </em>
</p><p><strike> Natsuki was a problem. </strike><br/>Why would she even <em>think</em> that?<br/><br/>...<br/><br/>It was a moment, barely noticed, of sudden clarity.<br/>After another disastrous day at Monika's club, where hardly any time was spent on <em>real</em> literature and it felt like every minute was a subtle attack, an undermining of what it meant to be here, for <em>her,</em> Yuri had gone off to a corner, and pretended to read.<br/><br/>The book she was reading had no real enjoyable content to it.<br/>All the dead philosophers and wise men, the coy women and elegant ladies, the fine heroes and thrice-cursed villains she'd enjoyed... They were gone, really. She had no time for them, anymore.<br/><br/>Only this, a book possessed of a terrible purity.<br/><br/>She'd found she could hide behind it, like a mask.<br/>And with it, she didn't have to – <em>care,</em> so much.<br/><br/>Why, then...<br/><br/>The girl before her was short; <em>too</em> short. (That didn't feel right, either. It wasn't how <em>she</em> felt. But she'd felt it, moments before.) She was loud and rambunctious and full of shit. Like other people, precisely, that was it –<br/><br/>An idea, unwelcome and unwanted, tried to make itself welcome in the back of her mind; orange light filtered through the window, and she strangled the life out of it, grimacing.<br/><br/>... The young lady in front of her, looking sour, was her <em>friend.</em> She was irritable as Yuri had felt, recently, and they... Fought a lot more, over stupid, <em>stupid</em> things. She had a bad snaggletooth, but Yuri had crooked teeth, so it would have been hypocritical and <em>cruel</em> to judge her over something like that.<br/><br/>And she – didn't eat enough, but it was one of those little things you were supposed to shrug off, like it was nothing.<br/><br/>Sometimes, her pale pink hair reminded her of roses.<br/><br/>“Mashiro, snap out of it! You're just... Y, you're being weird, dumbass. At least answer me?”</p><p>Natsuki was holding out a small volume, and surprising herself, Yuri recognised the title.<br/><br/>“Flowers of... Evil? <em>Oh! </em>Baudelaire, you shouldn't have. He's... Rather, you know - “<br/><br/>“It's not that guy, Yuri. This is, uhmn... How shall I put this?”<br/><br/>Natsuki tried to describe the plot of the comic, and it took all of Yuri's energy not to pull her lips over her teeth and sneer, like a wild dog.<br/><br/>“Why would I... Be interested in the story of a man like that? <em>Natsuki.</em>”<br/><br/>Things returned to this ugly state of affairs.<br/>Many of the novels Yuri loved best were violent, ugly things...<br/><em>just. like. her.<br/><br/></em>But as of late, even being seen with Natsuki had – made her...<br/><em>No.</em> What <em>had</em> it made her feel? Something still felt... Wrong, and she rubbed at her forehead, trying to ease out the headache that had taken hold over her.<br/><br/>“Sorry... Natsuki.”<br/><br/>“It's... It's really fine, okay?! I just – got tired of you pretending to read that stupid novel over and over again. So. I'm gonna leave it on your desk, and you can read it if you want. But, just – read it <em>thoroughly, </em>okay?”<br/><br/>...<br/><br/>What a strange request.<br/><br/>Yuri pondered it the entire way home, through district after interminable district, until the country loomed over her like she loomed over Natsuki. She'd tucked the manga into her bookbag, along with <em>Portrait.</em> The farther she walked, the less alien the idea seemed to her; she'd discussed wanting to try new things, not so long ago...<br/><br/>Hadn't she?</p><p>Standing in the dim reflection of a crosswalk light, Yuri snuck the chunky volume from it's resting place, and idly flipped through it.<br/><br/>... In spite of herself, she read – but only a bit.</p><p>The click of locks welcomed her home.<br/>For once, the Yamamura family had left their television off; which was funny, as she'd <em>just</em> started to grow accustomed to the constant hum of white noise, of television static and the wheezing laughter of those whose age was now a clock, ticking towards one last number.<br/><br/>Lying down against the hardwood floor, Yuri stared up at the ceiling, with a manga she'd never read balanced precariously against her stomach. Her eyes unblinking, she tried to puzzle out why the last few weeks had been so hard, so difficult, and nearly gave up.<br/><br/>Until, with a soft whistle, a single sheet of paper fell from the volume.<br/><br/><em> Hey, uh, sorry for being a dingbat.<br/>I'm so fucking tired of fighting with you.<br/>We never talk anymore. And when we do?<br/>You just talk about that guy, and I'm like, what – at least he has a full head of hair? </em><br/><br/>Yuri smiled, held the note to her chest without thinking.<br/>It was the kind of comment she would've hated from anyone else.<br/>Or, maybe...<br/><br/><em> But I really do think you'd like this.<br/>You're some combination between the whiny male lead and the edgy bitch.<br/>I don't think it's fair to just compare you to other people though, so... Snap out of it.<br/>I... </em><br/><br/>That single, terrible letter was crossed out. Yuri shut her eyes.<br/><br/><em><strong>WE </strong></em> <em> miss you. I thought this would be fun, but it's – shit, okay?<br/>Every day here is just a reminder of how much, urrrrgh, I don't even know what to write.<br/>So. Tomorrow, if you – get this, I don't care if you read the damn manga or not, just return it someday.<br/><br/>Tomorrow, you, me, and Sayori, we're gonna ditch.<br/>Just us. No Monika, no dumbass with his bowl-cut and bad taste in beat poetry.<br/><br/></em> (She smiled again, in spite of herself. It – hadn't been that bad, and she doubted Natsuki felt that way, but...)<br/><br/><em> It's – okay if you don't wanna. I dunno. Maybe you really are just angry at me.<br/>I get it. I'm really hard to deal with.<br/>Sorry. About that.<br/><br/></em> Natsuki's handwriting paused here, and Yuri could feel her grappling with her own thoughts, what she needed to say, what she wanted to say – and the edge of the paper.<br/><br/><em> Dunno what we're gonna do either. But I'd be really happy if you were there. </em><br/><br/>Yuri lay back against the hardwood, tried to burrow within it as if it were some kind of crypt. All of it felt <em>real </em>again, like a cloud had been lifted from her mind, a storm that had settled over her in the middle of a calm day.<br/><br/>And she – liked storms, and yet...<br/><br/>Crumpling the note against her so tightly she could feel her hands go red, she placed the manga carefully in a shelf she'd deprived of anything else. It had been reclaimed by the dust of this place, and without thinking, she exhaled – sending clouds of tiny motes drifting aimlessly in every direction.<br/><br/>Her quiet laughter was not high, nor cruel.<br/><br/>“Whatever... Have I been doing...”<br/><br/>She didn't return the manga, the next day.<br/>However...</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>These are not necessarily manga Natsuki would like best. Rather, she chose them for a specific reason.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I. angels' trumpets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Wooohoo, I can't believe you came!”<br/><br/>Summer in the country was a kind of tiny miracle. The weather was content to grow over things like creeping ivies, devouring decaying plant matter and replacing it with whatever might survive best. Perhaps the ideal form of life was neither human nor beast, but <em>fungus...</em><br/><br/>Regardless, Sayori's enthusiasm was boundless as she jumped in place, the orange polka-dot bow she wore standing out jean shorts and a familiar jacket.<br/><br/>“Nice... New pins you have there. Busy collecting...”<br/><br/>“Ehehehe, sometimes. I haven't had much time, what with the Literature Club. Lots to read, lots to discuss!”<br/><br/>The conversation killed itself in summer heat.<br/>A topic neither of them wanted to discuss, nor think about.<br/><em>Funny,</em> that far part of her mind whispered, and it wasn't funny at all.<br/><br/>“Where's... Natsuki? She, mmn...”<br/><br/>Yuri paused, chewing over her words carefully – then pausing to chew on a strand of her own hair. Sayori giggled, a bit nervously.<br/><br/>“One of these days, we're <em>really</em> gonna have to re-socialise you, wild-child!”<br/><br/>“I can do as I please. Nobody cares.”<br/><br/>Yuri grumbled, and it felt <em>good.</em><br/>Why had she been so – distant, before...<br/><br/>“Anyway. That comment seems a bit suspicious! Don't just trail off, 'cause if you do!”</p><p>“... Well?”<br/><br/>“See, I trailed off to teach you a lesson!”<br/><br/>Jumping up excitedly again, Sayori's smile faded, a bit...<br/>Though only just.<br/><br/>“We kind of, well, I thought of this on a whim. I – reached out right at her house, y'know? And I know she doesn't like people visiting unannounced, but – she really wanted to come, so... Y'know...”<br/><br/>There was a lot Yuri 'knew' and a lot that she <em>didn't.</em><br/>She 'knew' that Natsuki's father was a coward, who'd always been demure whenever she'd stopped over to visit...<br/><br/>But that Natsuki had felt <em>awful</em> and <em>shamed</em> and <em>embarrassed </em>after, and that made it hard to feel like she'd done the right thing.<br/><br/>And she 'knew' that she'd come here, because of a note.<br/>One that she needed to – to thank Natsuki for, if nothing else.<br/>That didn't need to be said aloud, however...<br/><br/>Sighing, Yuri sat down against a tree-trunk, smoothing her faded yellow sundress. And if a sundress with a long-sleeved slip was unusual, it was not for her; for she was unusual.<br/><br/>It was normal. It was <em>accepted.</em><br/><br/>Wordlessly, Sayori sat beside her.<br/>Yuri wanted to scoot away, to create a space where there wasn't one...<br/>But the reason why seemed alien and distant, and she discarded it with a practised ease.<br/><em>No.</em> With <em>discipline.</em><br/><br/>The sun was out, after all; and it was the second-most true thing in all the world.<br/><br/>“What a terrible smile! Ehehe, is that 'cause... You're crushing on <em>him</em>?”</p><p>
  <em>Strange.</em>
</p><p>When Sayori said his name, it sounded like nothing at all; an absolute string of meaningless numbers or letters, verbal garbage far worse than any failed beat poetry.<br/>And that wasn't right. He was an important part of their club, and more importantly, a good...<br/>Friend, of Sayori's.<br/><br/>“It's not like that at all. He has something I want. That's it.”<br/><br/>Only seconds after she'd said it, she realised just what she'd said... And how it must have sounded. Sayori's nervous laughter faded, and she stared intensely at her feet.<br/><br/>“Wow, I... I've never really heard someone be so blunt before. I mean, you, you're usually pretty blunt. But, uhmn... I can't say – I really like...”<br/><br/>Yuri grunted and thrust her head into her palms.<br/><br/>“That's not what I mean. Sayori. I – he's physically attractive, all right! It just feels like he's all I can think about recently, and I'm so – so <em>tired</em> of that! I'm <em>tired </em>of... Of...”<br/><br/>In a shaded forest glen, two women stared at one another.<br/>Sayori's mouth hung open, slightly.<br/>Blue eyes, sometimes so distant, narrowed.<br/><br/>“Ehehe, ehehehe, you too? That's... Weird, huh?”<br/><br/>Lost in their thoughts, both went silent.<br/>Yuri wracked her brain, trying desperately to think of why she'd said those terrible words – tried to remember how to breath, like it was the most impossible task in all the world...<br/>Yet, she'd never truly forgotten.<br/><br/>Inhale.<br/><br/>Exhale.<br/><br/>“I'm... Not fond of him, I mean. Not as a friend, or... More. I just feel... A bit compelled, when I see him. Like... Like he...”<br/><br/>She wanted to say such terrible, ugly things.<br/>Rip out the part of her that felt so strongly, and make Sayori see it; but by saying it aloud, and by identifying it...<br/><br/>“No, I... Yuri, that is <em>really</em> weird. I mean, in general, but – recently, I've... Ehehe, we've had trouble talking. He used to come over all the time, and play video games. We'd – just stay up all night talking.”<br/><br/>Sayori smiled, wistfully, and hugged her arms tightly around her knees.<br/><br/>“I miss him. It's like he's still my friend but he's changed over night, and he just – isn't the guy I knew at all, and it <em>hurts</em> and I'm not sure why. I mean I think it's love, but, love... Shouldn't feel like this. Even if it's sad, if this is love... I, ahaha, why am I crying...”<br/><br/>Like a spell had been broken, Yuri felt her presence of mind return to her.<br/>She knelt down, and embraced Sayori from behind, and just held her while Sayori cried, not strongly but softly.<br/><br/>“Sayori... I'm not – the best person when it comes to... To matters of the heart.”<br/><br/>“Natsuki said you'd had a boyfriend, or two? Is it – always like this?”<br/><br/>Yuri smiled, so crookedly and uneven it felt as if her face might split.<br/><br/>“From... From my experience. I'm so... I'm terribly...”<br/><em><br/>no.<br/><br/><strong>None</strong> </em> of this felt like love. None of this felt <em>real.</em> She hadn't suffered through this, built up an entirety of discipline on her own, taken strength from – the places she'd found it, to fall back into this. She hadn't, she hadn't, she hadn't –<br/><br/>“Yo, ladies, whass... Up...”<br/><br/>It was then, that, with an incredible timing, Natsuki appeared. Her face froze, her single most present fang stuck in a terrible half-grin, half-confident and entirely coated in sweat.<br/><br/>“Uuuuerh. Want me to come back? If you're arguing after all this – “<br/><br/>“Nononono we're not!”<br/><br/>“I'm sorry, it's my fault!”<br/><br/>Sayori and Yuri burst out at the same time, their explanations mulching over each of other while Natsuki unceremoniously plopped herself down onto the dirt, one leg rested daintily against the other. She listened carefully, her frown winding up on itself.<br/><br/>“I think this stupid literature club was a bad idea. Like, it feels as if everyone was doing good, and then Monika transferred in – “<br/><br/>“Did she? I thought she was always here?”<br/><br/>Sayori interjected, but Natsuki cut her off with a grouchy wave of her hand.<br/><br/>“ - anyway, your dumb friend is acting dumber, Yuri is acting lousier – “<br/><br/>“<em>Lousier?</em>”<br/><br/>“What is <em>with</em> you two? Let me finish! Ugh, I didn't want to waste any time on things like this... I just feel like the literature club was a mistake, all right? I hate seeing you two unhappy, and it's like everyone's pretending to be happy, and why the hell do we have to keep pretending! My dad was ge – things were okay, I thought. And then, I just... I...”<br/><br/>Natsuki's impassioned speech ran out of steam.<br/>Her head hit her hands, and she only shook a little, only rarely.<br/><br/>Yuri felt time slow down to a crawl.<br/>It was strange, though. Her own breathing felt... oddly soft.<br/>She didn't even need to focus.<br/><br/>Gently, her fingers found Natsuki's.<br/><br/>“Uhmn... It... It isn't a waste.”<br/><br/>Natsuki looked up, eyes faintly red – without tears.<br/><br/>“Because the two of you are there. And <em>I</em> need to apologise. I have been an <em>incalculable bitch,</em> and, and distant. And I don't know why either. And I am very sick of it. So. Uhmn, you wanted to ditch today, but I thought... Maybe it doesn't... Have to just be today...”<br/><br/>Yuri trailed off, her words getting quieter and quieter.<br/><br/>“What.”<br/><br/>Natsuki replied, and only just managing to complete her sentence.<br/><br/>“I mean, I love that idea but we can't just ditch Monika and, uh, Sayori, help!”<br/><br/>Sayori giggled a bit, and corrected her; Natsuki groaned and shook her head; it was an obvious name, of course. Always was.<br/><br/>“We don't have to, though. They're still our friends, but, uhmn... Uhmn...”<br/><br/>Yuri shook, and shook, and shook.<br/><br/>Her world was spinning away from her, and she suddenly felt as if she'd seen the glimmer of a door, buried beneath the forest floor. She'd passed it by, over and over again, refusing to even entertain the idea of helping her friends, and right now...<br/><br/>“I'm going to quit the literature club. You're both free to stay in, but I think that will fix most of the problems.”<br/><br/>A forest glen exploded into conversation; and possibly accusation and exasperation.<br/><br/>“Yurrrrriiii, please don't quit just because he's making you feel a bit awkward, or you're worried about me, or – or anything like that, please – “<br/><br/>“I know you're stupid, Yuri, but this is a new level, even for...”<br/><br/>But they both tapered off.<br/>Sayori's eyes narrowed again, because there was very little the keen blue of her irises missed.<br/>And Natsuki just stared, shocked – and maybe, a little bit...<br/>Hopeful.<br/><br/>Laughing so hard she felt she might burst, Yuri doubled over.<br/>It was so simple! It always had been!<br/><br/>“Are you – okay, Yuri...”<br/><br/>“I <em>am. </em>Natsuki, I think I've... I'm feeling better than I have in <em>years.</em>”<br/><br/>Her hands seemed so large and ungainly, in front of her. Thin, perhaps, but ill-proportioned. Like all of her, like the monster that she <em>was.</em> But the thing was, even an ogre might dream of being a human, and perhaps...<br/><br/>“Right now, it's just... I'm not... Healthy. Enough to be thinking about – b... Boys.”<br/><br/>She'd meant it to be a serious comment, but Sayori's nervous gigglefit and Natsuki's very quiet 'oh brother' were too much, and Yuri pulled the (slightly unfashionable) sunhat she'd brought with her low.<br/><br/>“But I'm not, I'm truly not..!”<br/><br/>“Er, eh, Yuri – I support you.”<br/><br/>Sayori wiped away an errant tear, and smiled – unfathomably gently.<br/>Her fingers were fair, and gentle, and always warm, even when Sayori was shivering.<br/><br/>“That's – really courageous, right? And I don't know if it's what I'd do, or even recommend, but... I know Monika'll understand.”<br/><br/>“She's... Too impressive, not to...”<br/><br/>Yuri agreed, only scowling a <em>little</em> as Natsuki pretended to blow an errant pink curl past her face.<br/><br/>“Monika's all right. But what about me? You – <em>implied</em> you were gonna give manga a chance, and now what, I'm stuck with Sayori, who already knows, and doofus? That's... Not as fun – “<br/><br/>“I never said I'd stop. I – I haven't even started your Baudelaire... Rip-off, but I'm going to.”<br/><br/>“F'real?!”<br/><br/>“For... Real... Sies.”<br/><br/>Both of them were laughing at her again, but it felt good to say. Natsuki was unquestionably her oldest friend, even if they hadn't been <em>friends</em> originally. And the thought of just cutting her off was cruel, but – going through her own memories, Yuri had held the terrible realisation of just how much of her life had been devoted to love, or an ideation of love, and –<br/><br/>“Waitup, though. Uh, on that note. Yuri. I read... Ugh. I read your stupid muscleman book.”<br/><br/>“Ooooooo, so did I!”<br/><br/>“No, not that one! Sayori, yours was the <em>incredibly</em> stupid one.”<br/><br/>“I liked when he...”<br/><br/>Sayori's mischievous grin was a weapon, like an artillery barrage of good humour that ground down all resistance. She held her fingers to her cheeks, and only continued when her audience was giving her their rapt attention.<br/><br/>“... compared floaty cutesie clouds to, and I quote, spermatoza.”<br/><br/>“There! <em>Is! A reason! </em>For that!”<br/><br/>Yuri tried to begin, but the words kept choking in her throat.<br/>Natsuki whistled; she'd worn an incredibly turn-of-the-century outfit, an overlarge white shirt, black shorts, and a brown messenger bag containing the book Yuri'd recommended to <em>her.</em><br/><br/>“Man, I see it. Er, I'd probably have tapped out if that was the case here. Yuri, I'm gonna have to say it, though. This guy is wack.”<br/><br/>Yuri grumbled sulphurously and looked away, almost <em>missing</em> Natsuki's upheld hand.<br/><br/>“I see why you like him, though. He – describes things in a way that's like, painfully beautiful. Kinda like you!”<br/><br/>“Like – wait, like – “<br/><br/>“L, like how you describe things, you idiot! Pay more attention!”<br/><br/>... She suddenly was very aware she'd missed arguments that didn't hurt.<br/>That not having to believe every little word was the edge of a knife was pleasant.<br/>That Natsuki's smirk was – pleasant.<br/><br/>Why had these days come to a stop..?</p><p>“Ehehe, is that the one that's part of a tetrology?”<br/><br/>“You really do know it, Sayori?”<br/><br/>Asked Yuri, managing to bite back a reply that <em>surely</em> would have put Natsuki's crassness and lack of understanding in a proper place.<br/><br/>“Well, sort of. I saw a noh adaptation once, in the city. He went, too! And... Fell asleep...”<br/><br/>The tips of her fingers touched, and Sayori sighed, but looked a little proud, as well.<br/><br/>“I thought the ideas were interesting, but – sad, without anything to balance that. Like he understood how the world worked, but only from his own perspective... And the idea that anyone else out there could even <em>see</em> things differently was an affront to this rich and vivid characters, and had to be destroyed.”<br/><br/>Yuri's mouth opened, and shut.<br/><br/>But he – that man, had...<br/><br/>“Anyway. I'm sure the book is a lot nicer, but, it wasn't really for me, either. Sorry!”<br/><br/>“... Rrrrrrrgh. Fine. I'm sorry I didn't like your dumb bodybuilder guy's foray into geopolitical religious drama either.”<br/><br/>“I'm happy.”<br/><br/>Yuri said, terribly quietly.<br/><br/>Perhaps they couldn't see.<br/>Perhaps they didn't need to.<br/><br/>“Nobody has... I don't think... Mmn. Even if you said the same about any other authors I might recommend, I wouldn't mind.”<br/><br/>At the edges of her vision, they faded – slightly, only slightly.<br/>Far above, the sky was blue and without frontiers; only the clouds, which looked nothing like... That, were floating around peacefully.<br/><br/>Her head didn't ache.<br/><br/>She didn't feel drawn to the past.<br/><br/>... And each of them had read it – well, er, somewhat, in Sayori's case.<br/><br/>It had been – and she couldn't count the years since that'd happened. It was as if there'd been hundreds of hundreds of years in a draught, so many that the idea that someone would care enough to do so had seemed impossible, and –<br/><br/>“Yuri, you don't hafta cry...”<br/><br/>“It's fine, Natsuki. I'm just – I'm...”<br/><br/>Progress was the act of casting things aside; of continuing motion.<br/>Whether or not Natsuki appreciated his work, it was something Yuri'd found agreeable in that particular author's view of things. Why she'd felt he – he <em>understood.</em><br/><br/>And in the past, whenever she'd moved forward, it was by cutting something away.<br/>Making trades.<br/>Until there was nothing left to give, and she was treading water, and praying for a breath of air.<br/><br/>... But it didn't have to be that way forever, <em>did it.</em><br/><br/>“So, what are you going to do without the literature club to keep you busy? Don't tell me you're gonna double down on your studies?”<br/><br/>With a smile, Sayori offered a solution, and -<br/><br/>“I was thinking... Uhmn, of... Getting a job.”<br/><br/>The stunned silence was as loud as thunder on a clear day.<br/>Yuri plunged forward, before they could interrupt.<br/><br/>“Other than that, I – want to interact, more. I want to spend time with you when you're... Free. Not because of some... Obligation. Just for fun. As – as friends.”<br/><br/>“All right. Y'know what, fine. Three is the bare minimum of people you need for a club, right? Sayori, you won't be pissed if I bail, right?”<br/><br/>“I'll be sad – but, I mean... You'd still be my friend, right?”<br/><br/>“There is no world, no world in <em>hell</em>, where I wouldn't think of you as a friend.”<br/><br/>Natsuki growled, and it was enough to make Sayori titter, a bit – nervously, and a bit melancholically, but not... Entirely unhappily, either.<br/><br/>“All right then. I need some more time to catch up on home ec, and if I actually want a ticket out of this pit, I need work experience. Sure, I could get a job in the city shoveling pre-made loaves into an oven, but it wouldn't pay the bills, I mean...”<br/><br/>“But, you guys realise I'll miss you, right?”<br/><br/>Sayori sighed and stared into the sky, above.<br/>And Yuri wondered if her eyes weren't brighter, still.<br/><br/>“That's the thing. I want... I want to make excuses to hang out <em>like this.</em> And I'd like to keep talking about literature. So... Even though it's selfish...”<br/><br/>“Just promise.”<br/><br/>Sayori whispered.<br/><br/>“Just promise that you'll try to keep in touch with me, okay? I... Just don't know why, but I feel like... Ehehe, sometimes I just feel a bit jumbled up. So – “<br/><br/>“I promise.”<br/><br/>Yuri said, so solemnly that it seemed to have an almost magical effect; dispelling the quiet and sombre mood that occasionally fell over Sayori like a blanket woven from mirrored starlight, soundless and lightless.<br/><br/>“You really do mean it, huh... Even past all this? Friendships don't usually last beyond school, you know...”<br/><br/>“Tsch, we'll just be the exception. And I mean... Egh, don't take this the wrong way, but so what if it doesn't work out? I'll just call you out of the blue twenty years after we've drifted apart, and you'll be like, 'wowie, Natsuki got even cooler!' and we'll rekindle things then and there!”<br/><br/>“... Y'know, I really wouldn't hate that.”<br/><br/>Sayori's lip twitched, the sure sign of something wonderful winning out.<br/><br/>“I don't think I'd hate that in the slightest. Actually? Maybe you guys are on to something. I'm gonna have to – to think about this, and as the super-legitimate VP, I definitely need to avoid outright condoning it, but... It's weird. My little toe has a good feeling about it!”<br/><br/>“Only your... Little toe.”<br/><br/>“For right now at least, Yuri. Ehehe, and Monika is gonna be sad! But, I think – “<br/><br/>And for a brief second, Sayori looked incredibly pensive, indeed.<br/><br/>“ – She might just understand it, too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I remain quite in love with Yuri's booklist. The chapter titles correspond well - I hope.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. II. gillyflowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn't a door to a clubroom; it was a door that had once led to a clubroom.<br/>A forgotten and underfunded music club, fallen prey to the ravages of constant budget-cuts, time, and neglect.<br/><br/>There was still a piano in the room, however.<br/><br/>Occasionally, ever-so-rarely, you could hear the sound of music filtering through the air, nothing like the tinned broadcasts from the PA system.<br/><br/>But today, the room was silent as Yuri knocked cautiously at the door.</p><p><em>She</em> was seated against the edge of the piano. An outside observer could have been forgiven for wondering if she was a corpse, or a demon; some witch's familiar, bound to the unloved shade of a piano, ivory keys attached to pale hands through invisible strings.<br/><br/>Her green eyes were faint, and clouded – but grew a bit brighter at the sight of Yuri.<br/><br/>“Well, look who came to visit! Don't mind me. Some days... You just can't coax a tune out, can you?”<br/><br/>Monika laughed.<br/>Quietly.<br/><br/>“... I thought you were quite skilled, though?”<br/><br/>“Hmn. I'm trying to learn how to play <em>naturally.</em> It's more difficult than it looks, even for me!”<br/><br/>“Naturally...”<br/><br/>Something about that sentence stood out to her. Yuri had grown used to the idea of Monika. Monika, who was skilled at anything she tried to do; more than skilled. <em>Perfect,</em> in every way. Who stole the smiles of others like they were favours at a tournament, and wove them around her as armour.<br/><br/>Here was a different Monika, then.<br/>Unarmoured, vulnerable, and lost in thought.<br/>Yuri coughed, turned her head to the side, and wished desperately that her hair would play along instead of fall where it liked, as it pleased.<br/><br/>“You've... Probably heard...”<br/><br/>“Mmn. My VP is my cherished spy, after all!~ But, hmn... I would never have pegged you as being somebody to just quit. You've always struck me as so retreating, Yuri!”<br/><br/>Perhaps it was intentional; perhaps Monika wanted to help, too, in her own way.<br/>A burbling, uncontrollable laugh welled up, until she couldn't fight it - and she didn't want to fight it, because she wanted to let herself be true to <em>her,</em> not an idea of her.<br/><br/>“I... I put a lot of effort into it, but... Monika... You have the wrong impression of who I am.”<br/><br/>Silence is a wall.<br/>Between two people, it may as well be insurmountable.<br/>And other times, it may provide shelter, before slowly eroding on its own, when it is no longer needed.</p><p>“Oh, I think I know you pretty well, Mashiro.”<br/><br/>Monika shut her eyes and pretended to hum, to look busy.<br/><br/>“After all, I only wanted to find a certain kind of person for this little club of mine. And you were the pinnacle of that kind of person. A Yuri at her Yuri-est, if I may be so crass!~”<br/><br/>“I'm not entirely sure I follow – “<br/><br/>“That's okay. That's fine!~ No, it's more... Hmn. How about this. You like allegories, right, Yuri?”<br/><br/>“You – remember?”<br/><br/>“We haven't discussed literature, much, have we? Just – poetry, all the time.”<br/><br/>“And I! I like poetry – “<br/><br/>“Ssssh!~ But it's not the only reason you joined, is it? So. Here's a thought-twister for you. Say you have a scenario set up to bring the greatest possible benefit to yourself. You're... Raising ants, in an ant farm.”<br/><br/>“Monika, if this involves maths...”<br/><br/>“It won't, prooooomise!”<br/><br/>Yuri's thick eyebrows creased, and she had never doubted another woman more in her life. The words sounded more like 'pwomise,' which was the first strike. The other was that Monika had flounced from the players' stool to the ground, and was kicking up air as she paced back and forth, very excited to talk about... Ants, or something.<br/><br/>“The ants are very important to you. Actually, they have to grow a certain way, or you'll, uh, lose your first place championship ant-farmer's medal. So you direct every choice they make and every burrow they dig. But you know what you're going to do at the end, <em>right?</em> Yuri.”<br/><br/>Her fingers shook.<br/>Yuri tried to focus, couldn't – only managed it, barely.<br/>Due to those two words, a mantra:<br/><br/>Inhale.<br/>Exhale.<br/><br/>“You... At the very end, they're for a show, right? So – instant concrete, or perhaps... Boiling...”<br/><br/>“Right, you got it!~ Because they're just ants, anyway. They probably can't even feel.”<br/><br/>Monika said wistfully, more wistfully than anyone had the right to be when talking about allegorical ants. <em>Except they weren't.</em> And even if they had been...<br/>Yuri could feel her hands tightening, wavering. The air was a vise; she had to destroy it, before it destroyed her –<br/><br/>“Except at some point, you start thinking, even ants deserve to be happy. And even if you lead them to a certain point, they're content with it. Maybe you should just... Let them have that, and who knows? Maybe you still get what you're looking for.”<br/><br/>“And what do the ants have to say about all of this?”<br/><br/>“Nothing, usually. They're allegories, after all.”<br/><br/>Monika chuckled self-assuredly, in that way that only the most certain of clubleaders can. She walked over calmly, and pat Yuri gently on the shoulder.<br/><br/>“Do you understand what I'm saying?”<br/><br/>...<br/><br/>“I really enjoyed a poem you wrote. <em>fun, reimagined,</em> if I'm not forgetting the... Title.”<br/><br/>Monika's face fell, her mask shattered, for a fraction of a second.<br/><br/>“Oho!~ I thought I'd destroyed that one. It wasn't very good – “<br/><br/>“Which is why <em>I </em>liked it. I think things that have flaws are more beautiful. That's – no, that's not quite right, I want to appreciate flaws more. And I think it must be exhausting to... Be flawless, all the time.”<br/><br/>She had dreamed about that, once.<br/>It was the dream a child might hold onto.<br/>Nobody could remain a child, forever.<br/><br/>Monika's bitter smile remained on her face, and she made no attempt to hide it.<br/><br/>“But it's the only poem of yours I recall, Monika. It's one of the only poems I remember <em>any</em> of us talking about. They all – jumble together in my head, and it feels as if I have less and less room for <em>my</em> thoughts. And.”<br/><br/>Yuri inhaled, deeply.<br/><br/>“I. Cannot. Do this. To myself. Again.”<br/><br/>The floodgates had opened; it was now or never, she had to say her piece or those green eyes would destroy her, rebrand her, attach a price to her, find the tastiest bits and sell them for the lowest price and regret it – but only for moment –<br/><br/>“When I see him, I want to destroy him. But only after having possessed him. Because it'd make Sayori sad; because he's a little attractive, but not very. Because he's like the rest of them, and doesn't see me at all – “<br/><br/>“See, and that's why I headhunted you, Yuri. You're dumb as a brick!~”</p><p>It – wasn't entirely the response she'd expected, and before too long...<br/><br/><em> Do you ever find yourself laughing with someone, who might have been your friend in another life?<br/>Over something unimportant. Something neither of you would have normally found funny.<br/>But at the moment, it is the most pleasant thing imaginable, and you realise, truly...<br/>This person, could actually be... A friend. </em></p><p>“You – you aren't wrong, you know. Most people... See me, and assume...”<br/><br/>“A lot of things, I'm sure. It must be <em>so</em> rough, but I don't have much pity for you. I'm a bit cold like that, you know!~ Anyway. That's not how he sees you at all. I don't think many people see you and, er, forgive me, even think.”<br/><br/>It hurt.<br/>Because some part of her, that foolish childish bit, wanted to believe that people cared.<br/>Even hatred was a kind of care; even assuming the worst was a kind of care.<br/>And the worst of it was imagining that nobody, none of the human animals...<br/>Cared at all.<br/><br/>Monika's know-it-all smirk spread even wider, and she held a finger in front of her lips.<br/><br/>“A-ah-ah-ah! You're getting dumb again. Just, try to listen, okay? There <em>are</em> people who care about you, though. And if the club is getting in the way of you seeing that, I think... It's okay, I guess, if you take a break from it.”<br/><br/>Silence is also a funny thing.<br/>Should you feel happy, or sad, when a conversation dies?<br/>It was something she'd struggled with – for so very long...</p><p>Whatever Monika had expected, however, it wasn't the full weight of a <em>very tall</em> girl <em>throwing herself</em> forward with terrible speed and force. (Like most things she was good at, however, Monika caught her well, and placed her gently on the ground... Without breaking the embrace.)<br/><br/>“I really am dumb, ahahaha...”<br/><br/>“Yep. It's a pity, but I guess there's only room for one girl with brains AND looks in this club... Sayori is a real jewel, huh?”<br/><br/>“She absolutely, absolutely is...”<br/><br/>“Just visit sometimes. You might not believe it, but I do genuinely love literature. Not just what doors it opens for me – “<br/><br/>“Wait.”<br/><br/>Yuri disentangled herself, thoughtfully. Never embarrassed, because she <em>never was</em> when it came to physically expressing herself. But – thoughtful.<br/><br/>“Could you... Repeat that.”<br/><br/>“About doors?”<br/><br/>It'd been something she'd imagined a few times, over and over.<br/>The idea of a door; one that she could walk through, and find herself in another land.<br/>One full of beauty and fine things; the people she loved most eternally at her side.<br/>Where she could be the person she dreamed herself, and not...<br/><br/>“I just... You think about them, too...”<br/><br/>“All the time.”<br/><br/>Monika didn't elabourate, didn't need to.<br/>She chuckled, and cricked her neck from side to side.<br/><br/>“Anyway, you wanna stay a bit? This is what I mean by playing naturally, rather than using a cool trick I learned, so, uh, if you like <em>flaws</em>, get ready!~”<br/><br/>Yuri sat on the floor, even though there were plenty of unused stools.<br/>And if Monika thought anything was odd about that at all, she said nothing.<br/><br/>The song was not good; it was full of sour notes where Monika's normally-skillful fingers struck the wrong keys, but... There was a beauty to that, too. It was an unseemly beauty, hidden behind layers of makeup, and only allowed to exist for a moment.<br/><br/>When it was over, Monika winked.<br/>It was lethal; one of those small gestures that stole your heart, if you let it.<br/>Yuri pretended to look away.<br/><br/>“Just between you and us, I think I'm getting a little better. What do you think, ever – Er, Yuri?”<br/><br/>“I agree. You should... Let me know, the next time you want to play.”<br/><br/>Monika laughed, and said something indistinct at that.</p><p>Yuri was silent as she headed to the door and saw herself out; lost in thought at how easy it had all been. How easy it always <em>was, </em>when she finally took whatever steps she needed to take for herself.<br/><br/>To move forward.<br/><br/>Outside, she nearly bowled into him.<br/>A young man, dark hair. No bowl-cut; Natsuki must have been confusing him with somebody else.<br/>He was plain, and neither attractive nor ugly. He was somewhat tall, but <em>nobody was as tall as she,</em> and as ever, she took a terrible pride in that...<br/><br/>Hunching down, just a little, as she had grown used to.<br/><br/>To smile.<br/>Softly.<br/><em>shyly.</em></p><p>“Oh... I didn't... See you there.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, I guess I'm kind of forgettable, ahahaha... Uh, is Monika in there?”<br/><br/>Two people hesitated, each imagining different things.<br/>Yuri coughed, and was suddenly overwhelmed with something terrible, something unknowable –<br/><em>She didn't feel it, right now.</em><br/><br/>“I, I... I... She is, yes. Just, she's practising, so please be courteous. I thin, she might want to... Surprise, somebody...”<br/><br/>He laughed, and his bangs obscured his eyes.<br/>It was a friendly, innocent laugh.<br/>There wasn't any malice at all.<br/><br/>... And he wasn't thinking about her.<br/><br/>“Uh, that's all right. I just wanted to return a poem. I didn't really like it, dunno if I even got it. She's got a long way to go, for the club leader.”<br/><br/>“You – isn't that a bit arrogant? She might cry, you know...”<br/><br/><em> Her heart felt like it might explode. Die, dye itself in stars, and repaint the cavity of her chest with something new, something more terrible than all the ugly parts of her... Or... Perhaps...<br/><br/></em> “Oiiii, I don't mean it like that! I just – being part of a club is kinda about being honest, right? It felt like words chosen at random, without meaning or structure, that's all.”<br/><br/>“F, funny... Coming from you...”<br/><br/>“My poems are HIGHBROW – “<br/><br/>His voice cracked, and he threw his hands in the air.<br/><br/>“ – You know what, nevermind. Uh. But, I heard from Sayori that... You and Natsuki are thinking of quitting, huh?”<br/><br/>Once more, silence spread.<br/>She smiled a bit, to the side.<br/>Exposing nothing; as ever, cautious.<br/><br/>“Quite... I'm just... Not really a poet. Or perhaps, I... Hate to share.”<br/><br/>“That's too bad. I felt like your stuff was derivative, but I always enjoyed your passion.”<br/><br/>“Really...”<br/><br/>“Yeah. I mean, I'm not really into <em>any</em> of this. I'm just here because of Sayori, but... I didn't hate it, either. Sorry, it's been a long day, I'm not making sense – “<br/><br/>“I understand <em>perfectly.</em>”<br/><br/>For the first time, it occurred to her.<br/>She had never talked to a man as an equal.<br/>They had always wanted... <em>something, </em>from her. One way, or another.<br/>And had never been interested in what she had to say.<br/><br/>Perhaps the same was still true with him. She couldn't quite say.<br/><br/>But they were talking.<br/>Pleasantly.<br/>With no sharp edges.<br/><br/>Even if only for now.<br/><br/>She was glad for her long hair, and how it hid her trembling hand.<br/><br/>“I thought you might. Hey, uh, I looked into that Markov guy? Do you <em>really</em> like his work, or that biography, or... Whatever it is? 'Cause it seems pretty grotesque, if you ask me – “<br/><br/>“But I didn't.”<br/><br/>She huffed, surprising herself.<br/>He, he – this <em>barbarian</em> had the sense to laugh, at that –<br/><br/>“Too bad. Mmn, well, I don't know. It gives kind of a... Weird internet vibe, wait, you're not really into that sort of thing, right?”<br/><br/>“S, sorry. I'm sick a lot of the time, so, I don't have much interest in... Computers...”<br/><br/>A half-truth is wonderful, because neither party needs to believe it fully.<br/>Still; he'd remembered such a tiny thing...<br/><br/>“Let me rephrase, it gives off a school-shooter vibe. You can – make fun of me, <em>I don't like that.</em> That's all. Sorry, beg pardon.”<br/><br/>He said it so <em>stiffly</em> that she couldn't help but laugh; only to stop when he looked <em>hurt.</em><br/><br/>“No, no... The... I'm sorry. You have to understand I... I'm interested in religious fiction like that.”<br/><br/>“Religious fiction? The hell?”<br/><br/>“Ugh, I don't have the time to explain – anyway. You – you might be right, though. I do enjoy <em>Portrait,</em> but... I don't think I've read anything I used to enjoy... That I enjoy, in the same way, for a long time. What a – strange thought...”<br/><br/>“Glad I could help, ma'am. Uhmn, and not to be rude for the second time, but... You're kinda blocking my way.”<br/><br/>Once more she wanted to laugh, wanted to <em>howl</em> with laughter, like the beast she was. Of course she was in his way! She leered, she loomed over him, he had one destination in mind, had a one-track mind..!<br/><br/>They could...<br/>Probably...<br/>Be friends.</p><p>Night in the country in summer is a miracle, too.<br/>Heat gives way to cold air, cold air warms the soul, and makes the mind clear.</p><p>You can reflect on the day as long as you like, for as long you please...<br/><br/>And all of it feels a little like a dream.<br/><br/>Moths fluttered around old lamplights as Yuri walked in silence.<br/><br/>She'd long since missed the last bus home, but perhaps it was good for her to walk, even if she'd never be able to be... Physical, like she had been.<br/>Like she was in her dreams.<br/><br/>Why had she assumed Monika would fight it more?<br/>Why had she... Written that man into a corner, in her mind, and exiled him there?<br/><br/>The thoughts wouldn't leave, but weren't important as it; the one thing, the decision. A stupid decision that a child had made for her, all of a sudden.<br/><br/>But she was one thing if not focused; they could mock that man all they liked. He had taught her discipline, and right now, she was thinking of all the other things she'd learned from old friends, bound in paper.<br/><br/>Even the ones she hadn't cared for, they'd taught her something, <em>too,</em> hadn't they...<br/><br/>It was late when she knocked on the Yamamura's door.<br/><br/>Funnily, it was the first time she'd <em>really taken in </em>their house. It was rather large, because they were in the better part of town. What rich citygoers might refer to as the 'exurbs' when they moved in, but weren't truly there, not yet.<br/><br/>Nobody replied, and she knocked again. If they were out, fine – she could be patient, and she –<br/><br/>“M, Mashiro?!”<br/><br/>When had Mrs. Yamamura become so old?<br/>She had always been old, but the gray hair uneasily pushed up into a bun, her sour teeth and constantly blinking brown eyes...<br/><br/>That completely flabbergasted look of disbelief, stretched into a sudden, surprised smile.<br/><br/>“Well... Well I'll be, a... You, haven't been... Jus' waiting out there, miss?”<br/><br/>“No, ma'am. I've been a strange. I'm terribly sorry.”<br/><br/>She bowed her head low, elegantly.<br/>As she'd practised in her mind, when she dreamed about how it must feel.<br/>If there was a quiet gasp, followed by a sad sigh, Yuri tried not to hear either.<br/><br/>“Y'really became a little princess, huh... Come in, come in!”<br/><br/>Nor had she ever truly payed attention to the Yamamura household.<br/>Was this what houses <em>were</em> supposed to be like?<br/>Not – covered in dust, and regret, and...</p><p>It was cramped. Cleaner than she'd expected, especially given their age. Photos, everywhere; mostly of animals, farm animals, their son...<br/><br/>She felt a terrible rush of emotions, and wanted to cry.<br/>To forget everything and cry, without ever feeling anything, ever again.<br/>But the fire she'd lit demanded she continue, and she was nothing if not fierce.<br/>She was fire, <em>too.</em><br/><br/>“You, uhmn... Your husband is probably asleep...”<br/><br/>“Ohohoh, we watched our soaps together, miss. It was a nice night. I was jus' watching the shopping channel, playing solitaire...”<br/><br/>And it was clear that Mrs. Yamamura didn't know what to say, either. Was <em>that</em> the truth of it? Nobody knew what to say, and they were just – always improvising it on the fly? Was that the trick, then...<br/>Could she, too...<br/><br/>Coughing, Yuri tried not to blush.<br/><br/>“I'm not... A big fan of soap operas.”<br/><br/>“Right, right. Well, you probably just like period drama, doncha.”<br/><br/>“A little. And, uhmn... Horror.”<br/><br/>Mrs. Yamamura shook as if she'd been struck, then burst into laughter; laughter that had stories written in missing teeth, and moles, and liversports. Magical laughter, that healed as much as it hurt. The laughter of an old woman, who isn't sure <em>she isn't dreaming,</em> either.<br/><br/>“Why... Why'd you come over here? Mashiro. <em>Miss Yuri.</em>”<br/><br/>“D, don't be... S'formal, you make it sound...”<br/><br/>It was a very hidden joke.<br/>You would have to have been around at certain times, witnessed certain things to even find it funny.<br/>The most wonderful thing in the world is sharing something so small, and so intimate.<br/><br/>Yuri wished it might last forever, but found herself understanding that it wouldn't, and accepting it. After all... Impermanence was beauty, too. Like snow in spring.<br/><br/>“I... Actually came to ask you about, your son...”<br/><br/>“Married, Miss. Don't go gettin' a head o'yerself.”<br/><br/>Snorted Mrs. Yamamura, and Yuri tittered – but only a bit.<br/>Her hands knelt behind her back.<br/><br/>“Well, I meant... To ask when he's coming into town. Because I... I'd like to work with him. I think – I know what I'd like to do with my life. If it's not too much trouble – “<br/><br/>“Spit it out, then. You're a country girl, Mashiro. Nobody's gonna help you if y'keep beating around the bush!”<br/><br/>“<strong>I'd like to be a veterinarian.</strong>”<br/><br/>Yuri said, and her words were as certain as ice.<br/>... Mrs. Yamamura nodded, looking pleased.<br/><br/>“Hmn. Hmn... You always did used to love rompin' around, huh? With the boys and wild things...”<br/><br/>At this, Yuri did not say a word, and was very careful to not say anything at all.<br/><br/>“... I'll let him know to check in on you, when he's here. We – used to send him around, you know – “<br/><br/>“I was sick.”<br/><br/>Yuri begin, hesitantly.<br/><br/>“... I was sick, but I'm working very hard on becoming better, now.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. III. stoneblossoms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I can't believe you really were a nerd. Are you ever gonna be done?”<br/><br/>Natsuki was peering over her shoulder, with a very – dismissive, Yuri decided – a very, <em>very</em> dismissive look upon her pleasantly sour face.<br/><br/>“You know I'm... Fucked if I don't get my grades up. The market is a bit saturated, uhmn, though not so much, here...”<br/><br/>“Which means you'll be wasting away in the countryside. Ugh, thinking of a fair flower just withering here... It makes my skin crawl. I wanna puke.”<br/><br/>Natsuki sprawled against the chair, and continued to grumble. They hadn't spend time like this, after class for – for...<br/><br/>Sighing, Yuri closed the textbook. It, too, wanted to puke; vomiting up dust that reminded her entirely of home. She'd tried to clean the the dust that might be called loneliness, but it clung to her wherever she went, and refused to let go.<br/><br/>One thing at a time, it seemed to whisper.<br/>Not yet.<br/><br/>... And that was fine.<br/><br/>“Well, it's not as if I'm doing this for my sake alone! And... I'm still me. I can't quite handle this, right now... So. Do you want to take a break?”<br/><br/>Years before, she'd smiled so casually; like she had been getting better, instead of falling back into easy old patterns. That smile eluded her, now, but she'd been working on a new one; and if the angles were lopsided, and she looked as wolfish as she felt, fine.<br/><br/>Her grotesqueness was a quality, not up for debate. Uneven features and ungainly proportions were her reality. But even then...<br/><br/>Natsuki snorted...<br/>And smiled, a bit.<br/><br/>“What, after that? You look like you're gonna whip something out. Oh, right, speaking of...”<br/><br/>It felt as if time had started to flow again, slowly, like it'd been caught in a drain. If Yuri knew the layout of the town like a transplanted flower in a familiar hothouse, Natsuki <em>knew </em>every street, and could tell you the history of every cobblestone.<br/><br/>... Selfishly, quietly, Yuri felt she'd be a fantastic history teacher, and buried that desire when she realised how – peculiar it was, unrelated to anything Natsuki might want.<br/><br/>“... this one, pretty good, really. Like, it's kind of a slice-of-life. Don't laugh, but I really could imagine it making a killer manga. The mix of humour and tragedy...”<br/><br/>Natsuki shrugged.<br/>They were at a four-way stop, one of the few in town.<br/>Naturally, nobody ever drove this way, and the roads were overgrown and pointless – interrupted only by the hungry roar of distant trains.<br/><br/>“I kind of agree. Black humour, with a... Tragic ending, it's pretty lovely, right?”<br/><br/>“That's not what I liked.”<br/><br/>Perhaps Natsuki was a fundamentally honest person.<br/>She rarely backed down, was fearless – in <em>almost</em> all circumstances.<br/>The bandages she wore from where she'd been out exploring, or tripped during a baking mishap, they were all <em>cute.</em><br/><br/>And it stung that Yuri felt she couldn't say as much, but if there had been a time when Natsuki...<br/>Might have appreciated that, she'd <em>trampled </em>on it, with the desire to remove anything that might ever hurt her again.<br/><br/>So.<br/><br/>Why had she removed a friend?<br/><br/>The thought stuck with her, as they waited for the train to roll by; and Natsuki began to laugh, grinning like crazy the entire time.<br/><br/>“You, you... Hey, Yuri. You <em>wanna hop a train?</em>”<br/><br/>“... What a terrible idea. I can't believe you thought of it. Hmn... It's so terrible I might just <em>agree</em>, and it'd be your fault. Natsuki...”<br/><br/>Their eyes met in a secret pact, and just as Yuri was feeling like she might push it a bit – farther, to see what happened...<br/><br/>An unexpected <em><strong>roar</strong></em> caused two young women to jump in place, Yuri mumbling a half-hearted <em>eeeep</em> that wasn't entirely true to how she felt (cursing trains, and all forms of locomotion, and the mere concept of steam power, all of which deserved nothing but <em>death</em>) – and then they could see it rolling past, in the distance...<br/><br/>Not so far that it was impossible to imagine boarding, but distant, all the same.<br/><br/>“... I read yours, too. All of it.”<br/><br/>Yuri muttered, as they walked.<br/>Each step punctuated by the rattle of train over tracks.<br/>Ta-ta, ta-ta. Ta-ta, ta-ta.<br/><br/>“Do you know... I, there was a time... And a mountain, more of a hill... I and, a m – “<br/><br/>Natsuki made an ugly face.<br/>Not the cute kind of ugly, not the kind of light-hearted sneer she had when she was playfully fighting. Not the ugliness that matched her rare, genuine tears, more precious than anything else.<br/><br/>... ugly.<br/>like <em>her.</em><br/><br/>Yuri scratched at her wrist, looked away.<br/><br/>“I'm not saying I don't care about your past. I didn't give it to you 'cause of that, though.”<br/><br/>Laughing in spite of herself, Yuri managed to restrain her fingers before they kicked anything up, before prying pink eyes could... Be certain, of anything.<br/><br/>“Just, y'know. It's like you. You only care about things that – that hurt. And it hurt, so I thought you'd enjoy it.”<br/><br/><em>ah.</em><br/><br/>Yuri had known she'd been wrong, that even away from the literature club, it was her destiny to fight this stupid little <em>runt,</em> again, and again. Just – pointlessly, until they wore each other down. Until her fingers found her neck, and they could pretend to be one person, just – hating one another –<br/><br/>“And, I... I hate to see you hurt, all right? So I really didn't care if you read it or not! I know you don't even try to understand manga, or – or <em>me!</em> The only thing that mattered was the note, and you... Read that, so, I mean, it's fine.”<br/><br/>Ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta.<br/><br/>Beyond them, a train continued onward, oblivious to the two pairs of feet now shuffling in an awkward silence.<br/><br/>Yuri's voice froze in her throat.<br/><br/>“W.. What...”<br/><br/>“Don't make me repeat myself. You always do, and it's – gross. You're... Really...”<br/><br/>It was easier to stare at the clouds than it was to meet her stare, so Yuri decided not to even try. Eyes were windows, fixtures, and portals. They were doors, but never to anything <em>good.</em> Never to something like escape.<br/><br/>Natsuki had eyes, but they were flowers. They were pale and too light and their fire hid something she didn't entirely care for, because it reminded her of – too much, and if Natsuki was pretending to care, she must know that, and...<br/><br/>And...<br/><br/>“H, hey, you... Mutant, stop crying...”<br/><br/>“Mutant?”<br/><br/>“They can't all be winners!”<br/><br/>But if Natsuki said something else, the roar of the train cut her off; and it wasn't important, in this case. It wasn't even important..!<br/><br/>And the moment was so freeing that Yuri wanted to cry more, but – she didn't <em>need</em> to.<br/>Smoothly, as if she'd been cleaning the edge of a knife, she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.<br/><br/>“I suppose I <em>am</em> a mutant. A terrible monster, born from resentment and loneliness...”<br/><br/>“See that is ENTIRELY why I lent you <em>Flowers</em> – “<br/><br/>“And maybe I'm changing again. It's your fault.”<br/><br/>“Oh, I... I see.”<br/><br/>Natsuki went silent, lost in thought.<br/>Yuri had meant the comment as a joke, but...<br/><br/>Yuri had spent so much time inside, in her own head, that all of her outfits were a bit strange. She didn't follow what normal people were supposed to wear. And sometimes they showed too much, or nothing at all. Like an alien... Or, fine, a mutant...<br/><br/>Who had never even imagined the place called earth, never even dreamt of it, might call their own.<br/><br/>But Natsuki, on the other hand...<br/><br/>All her outfits were chosen to be cute. To be expressive.<br/>Not fashionable, exactly. But they were – an explosion of colour and happiness.<br/>Loud, like her voice... Or her poetry.<br/><br/>Maybe not happy, all the time.<br/>Maybe quietly asking to be noticed.<br/><br/>Today, she'd worn an overly large coat that she'd probably taken from an unguarded closet, the only person in the household who might have protested being... Asleep, or absent. And it wasn't a fancy coat, and it was <em>so much more large</em> than her, but...<br/><br/>Yuri wondered if Natsuki might fit in well, in the city.<br/>If she might – be happier, away from all of this.<br/>Away from her.<br/><br/>...<br/><br/>“Er, Yuri. I didn't mean to – get you down, or anything...”<br/><br/>“I'm not. This is me when I'm happy.”<br/><br/>Yuri whispered, and couldn't quite believe herself.<br/><br/>They'd crossed the tracks, and with them, something else.<br/>Beyond was – woods, and plains, and land that had no people in it.<br/>Only beasts.<br/><br/>Maybe monsters.<br/><br/>“Well, then. Guess I'm happy, <em>too.</em>”<br/><br/>But Natsuki wasn't, because who could find happiness so close to a monster?<br/>There was – an ugliness to her, that latched to things, to people, that ate them up and spat out pretty bones when she'd taken her fill.<br/><br/>Or, or perhaps...<br/><br/>“I – we haven't spoken, in awhile. Like this, I mean.”<br/><br/>Soft green grass, trampled so easily underfoot.<br/>The summer sky above, watching her mistakes impartially.<br/>Without judgment, or acceptance.<br/><br/>“And I... I should like to know you, a little better... I... Natsuki. <em>Why did you drop out, too.</em>”<br/><br/>Sentences, like every part of her, were her weapons.<br/>This sentence had been growing, honing itself against the edge of her spirit, waiting for just the right moment to strike.<br/><br/>But in her head, she'd imagined herself sounding cruel and aloof – not...<br/>Not...<br/><br/>“'Cause I was in there to talk to you. And I liked the excuse to be... With friends, and stuff. And if you were gone, I guess it'd have been quieter. Sayori and I don't argue, much.”<br/><br/>Two young women looked up, and saw separate suns.<br/>Perhaps the world distorts for every person, she thought; and perhaps we are all ultimately alone.<br/>Or. Perhaps; a word almost as lethal as that one, that tiny word that obliterates all that came before...<br/><br/>“Would you like... I... Would you care, to...”<br/><br/>“Just, whatever weird shit you're gonna say – “<br/><br/>It was a moment they'd almost crossed, several times.<br/>That tiniest of boundaries, the one that normal people could step through easily.<br/>Not a door, barely even a cobblestone.<br/><br/>She wanted to reach out her hand, and grasp air. She wanted to breath.<br/><br/>Normally, this was it; the moment in time where she pulled back, or cut things away, and returned to the comfortable decline she liked best.<br/><br/>The sun was high; it was orange.<br/>Once more, time was moving forward.<br/>And if she didn't seize this moment...<br/><br/>First, she shut her eyes and burned every trace of it deep into her memory. The way Natsuki had trailed off, all of her usual courage and bluster gone, drifted away like cotton on the breeze. The slight sheen of sweat against her face, and that – powerlessness thing called hope, which they both held onto because there was nothing <em>else.</em><br/><br/>Her arms felt heavy, and she recalled the feeling of pushing them against waves – but couldn't quite remember how it had felt to struggle, let alone to cut through them as naturally as if they had been air.<br/><br/>And – and she wasn't sure if that even mattered, <em>had ever mattered</em> –</p><p>“What the hell do you even <em>like,</em> Natsuki?”<br/><br/>“I, er, huh – “<br/><br/>“We've been friends for... Mmn, at least five years, right?”<br/><br/>“Heh, I mean, if you count the time I kicked the teeth of some precocious girl in, yeah, sure.”<br/><br/>Natsuki said with a small, self-directed smirk, the atmosphere having completely changed but not faded, not fallen, not having been lost – because it didn't need to be, because even if... It was like that famous river, and she was – going to cross it...<br/><br/><em> her hands felt like they were sweating, even though her calloused skin was completely fair<br/>never to tan again, only to burn –<br/></em><br/>“I just, I realised... I, I never really... I've never... Thought of what you like outside of, you know, baking and things like that, ahahaha, and uhmn, you're more than just a – a cupcake dispenser, and...”<br/><br/>“Izzat what you think of me? Geeergh. I really am an idiot, gonna go home and make scones. For myself, by the way. Not for you – “</p><p>“Waaaaait!”<br/><br/>Yuri said, the faint hint of crocodile tears interrupting the otherwise quaint scene of a fair maiden (who grew winded after running a short distance) chasing after an equally fair maiden who was (slowly) strutting into the distance.<br/><br/>“Okay, waiting. Your point, was..?”<br/><br/>“I...”<br/><br/>“... C'mon. I'm not brave. Not like you.”<br/><br/><em>Not like </em> <em><strong>you.</strong></em> <em><br/>But – she wasn't brave. She was courageous, and there was a difference, far too many differences to count. Bravery was elegance and resistance in the face of despair, things she could never have. Courage was usurpatious, and hungry, and –<br/><br/>But Natsuki thought she was brave.<br/><br/>... </em><br/><br/>“I...”<br/><br/><em> I do not like, or dislike you.<br/>Perhaps I even hate you.<br/>No, I'd like to hate you. It's far simpler.<br/><br/>But you think I'm brave.<br/><br/></em> “Hey, you know – you know what? <em>Forget it.</em> Please just forget – that I'm here right now, okay? Let's... Let's just go home, and not talk about this, and just – “<br/><br/>“Do you want to... Go see a movie, or something...”<br/><br/>“The theatre closed.”<br/><br/>“<em>Fuckdamnit,</em> stop making this so difficult – “<br/><br/>“You're the one who makes things difficult! Wait, <em>fuckdamnit, </em> uhuh, hehehe – “<br/><br/>“... Stop laughing. Or... What. Do you want me to get down on the ground and say this? Because if that's what you're saying, I – I will...”<br/><br/>“Oooooooo, scary, you're gonna kneel down in a meadow and ask to see a movie with me? I don't even like your shitty movies!”<br/><br/>“UuuUUuuUUUUUuuuUUUuUU!”<br/><br/>“Uuuuu yourself.”<br/><br/>Her hands scraped at the side of her face, and she wanted to just – tear it off , and not have to ever listen to that annoying voice ever again. <em>No.</em> All of that was a <em>lie,</em> and <em>she truly was </em> making the whole thing more difficult, and – there was no room for retreat.<br/><br/>Marvelously, somehow she had cut it all away.<br/><br/>The clouds, the sun, the waving grass of summer.<br/><br/>All of them were her secret strength.<br/><br/>On a summer's day, much like any other, Yuri pushed aside her bangs; they slipped back into place, and she resisted the urge to fight them any further. They were a part of her, like all the other ugly parts of her. And they attracted unwanted attention that she couldn't shake away, perhaps had even... Taken a different kind of strength from.<br/><br/>And on a summer's day, she knelt down, with her hands behind her back.<br/><br/>From a distance, anyone might have been forgiven for finding her an unusually tall girl, in an unremarkable school uniform. The skirt was a bit longer, and her sleeves were pulled tight, but little deviations from order are always permissable.<br/><br/>She did not <em>tower</em> over Natsuki. Yuri had learned the terrible art of diminishing herself from an awful source, but... At the moment, she didn't...<br/>Hate...<br/><br/>Knowing how...<br/><br/>Her cough disrupted a terribly perfect silence.<br/><br/>“You realise I'll ruin this.”<br/><br/>What a terrible thing to say; to put into words. She savoured it, on her lips. They were always so dry, because she never took care of herself, did she? Just – lived, like a beast lived, and let the days pass and...<br/><br/>Perhaps...<br/>Somebody...<br/><em>Had</em> noticed.<br/><br/>“Don't care.”<br/><br/>Those words were so tiny, so weak.<br/>Right; because it was... A substitute, for things. For <em>real</em> things, real feelings. That had to be it. Natsuki saw in her – that. And somehow, the thought was more bearable than whatever... Mistake she'd made, and she let it pass.<br/><br/>“All right then.”</p><p>Nothing about it was romantic.<br/>Everything about it would have destroyed the girl she'd been.<br/><br/>Who she was, today...<br/>And the sun was in Natsuki's eyes, patient but pale.<br/><br/>“Do you want to... Go out with me. To the library, I mean. To read... Manga, or something stupid like that.”<br/><br/>“Pffft, whatever, I mean – if you want. I guess.”<br/><br/>Nothing about this could possibly be called a 'relationship.'<br/>She'd always dreamed of someone who might – seize her hands, and... Listen. Truly listen.<br/>But, suddenly...<br/><br/>“Yes. I very much <em>do</em> want that.”<br/><br/>“Oh, <em>very much?</em> Well – well why don't you <em>show </em>me?”<br/><br/>“All right. What the... <em>Hell</em> do you even really like, anyways? Not just – Parfait Girls. Give me something new. If you don't, I'm going to... Scoot my ass home, and... Think, all day.”<br/><br/>“We can't have that, can we?! All right, well, listen! So, oh, geeze, where to start, this <em>first</em> one is an adaptation of, uhmn, a famous anime, and don't laugh but the main character is named Yuri, too, and anyway, we have to start with the backstory...”<br/><br/>The sun so swollen above bore down on them, relentlessly. Yuri wasn't entirely sure when they'd circled around towards the bus stop at the far end of town; the one that truly made it clear you were in the country, with the cheaply made wooden station.<br/><br/>But Natsuki had gone from excitedly talking about ballet, or perhaps figure skating, to another manga; a story about three, or possibly four (it seemed like there was some dispute amongst the readerbase) magical girls who were sworn to protect the world from evil, only to be betrayed by the fourth magical girl, and – it all sounded so terribly complex...<br/><br/>“S, sorry. I mean, I realise I'm probably talking too much – “<br/><br/>“Not at all.”<br/><br/>Whispered Yuri.<br/>Part of her wanted to cry.<br/>And a different part of her, revived by sunlight, wanted to just – listen, forever.<br/><br/>Natsuki shouldered her bookbag, and chortled, a hand against her chin.<br/>With a world-weary air, her noise pointed up towards the sky, she placed a hand against her chest.<br/><br/>“Hehe. If I'd known how easy it'd be to induct you into the world of manga, I would've done so earlier. I'm pretty sure there's one about time-traveling samurai fighter pilots or whatever, so if I'm – losing you, or whatever...”<br/><br/>“You aren't.”<br/><br/>Once more, her voice was a whisper.<br/>Perhaps a plea.<br/><br/>“I... All of that, sounds...”<br/><br/><em> She wanted to shout it up into the sky; to yell and to holler and to say that it was all she'd ever wanted, but so afraid of the moment passing, and fading into nothingness was she that it – couldn't be, needed to remain suppressed.<br/><br/>Gulping in the summer air, she steadied herself – against the wall, of course.<br/>Steadied herself inside, too, while grasping desperately for land that she'd lost sight of.<br/>This terrible newness was exhausting as it was frightening, and yet...<br/><br/></em> “How would you... Feel... About maybe... Coming over. And... And watching. With me.”<br/><br/>“Er, could you – I'm not trying to pick a fight or anything, but I couldn't hear you with your teeth all locked up like that – “<br/><br/>“They're locked up because of <em>you,</em> you... Absolute... Grimace, you...”<br/><br/>And they were laughing again.<br/>She was laughing.<br/><br/>Natsuki had a very calm, encouraging laughter.<br/>Even when she was feeling boisterous, it made you feel like it was fine if you were, too.<br/>Or – or perhaps <em>nobody else</em> saw it that way, and if she had seen it that way <em>this entire time, then...</em><br/><br/>Yuri's throat seized up, once more.<br/><br/>“I, I may need some time to. Clean some things up, you know. But I've got... Some amazing flicks, really incredible stuff. Ehemn. I don't particularly – like a lot of media, but... I mean, it's only fair to share, right...”<br/><br/>“D'you just want to scare me? 'Cause it kind of looks like you've got an evil glint in your eye, right now!”<br/><br/>“Mmn. Maybe I <em>do.</em>”<br/><br/>“Fine then, just – tell me when you're ready, and I'll... We...”<br/><br/><em>We.</em><br/><br/>She contemplated that word as the rickety bus approached, as the same forlorn busdrive who'd been present since she moved to town carried them to the neglected library, and all of the manga within... All of which Natsuki had clearly read, perhaps knew by heart.<br/><br/>And yet, here she was, getting excited for Yuri's sake.<br/><br/>Like it was all new to her, and perhaps in the moment it <em>was.</em><br/><br/>Time filtered down like a winding clock, and even though Yuri only enjoyed <em>some </em>of it, because Natsuki kept jumping from volume to volume trying to guess what might suit her best...<br/><br/>She found herself, when she returned home and sealed herself behind the safety of so many familiar locks, lost to wondering if it had always been so dusty here. She held her arms to her waist, and thought, and did not sleep a wink.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. IV. white periwinkles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Well, hold 'er up higher. A little bit more, uh, t'the left...” <br/><br/>Yuri sweated, and bit back a curse. It would've been easy to say something cruel, to make an excuse, and to leave. <br/><br/>Nor could the work she was doing with Yamamura Jr. (<em>Toshio</em>, she corrected herself) be called anything like apprenticeship. She wasn't even getting paid, and grandfather had always said, with a mischievous smile – never do anything for free. <br/><br/>She'd learned a lot from him, and disagreements were part of that. <br/><br/>“You're a pretty strong girl, Yuri. But'cher gonna have to do better than that, especially if you're planning to keep working out here. I mean, what if somebody brings in a horse, or a cow... There'll always be country boys to help, but – “ <br/><br/>He wasn't unobservant, but he missed the vicious line against her face. <br/>And she kept pushing herself, and hoisted the heavy medicine pallet into the back of his pickup truck. <br/><br/>Wiping sweat from her brow, she managed a weak, but <em>victorious</em> smile. <br/><br/>“I... Haha... Guess I'll just have to get stronger, then...” <br/><br/>“Mmn, well, don't push yerself. For today, that's fine. Honestly, I'm kind of impressed, but – y'hafta remember that if you can't rely on yourself, you're letting people down.” <br/><br/>The advice was very much something he'd heard from his parents, she decided. <br/>She did not dislike that. <br/>No, she rather liked it. <br/><br/>“I'll take that under advisement.” <br/><br/>“You, hrmn... Seem a bit less stuttery.” <br/><br/>“<em>Do</em> I?” <br/><br/>She asked, with one thick eyebrow raised. <br/><br/>“Could be! Hoo, I'm beat, though. I've gotta drive out to a few more places before 5:00, and then it's back home... When are you thinking of getting your licence?” <br/><br/>Her enigmatic smile didn't elicit quite the response she wanted, so... <br/><br/>“A, already?!” <br/><br/>“What if I wanted to leave town?” <br/><br/><em> What if I suddenly wanted to be free? <br/>What if I remembered how small the world used to feel? <br/>What if, some day... <br/><br/></em> “Don't get too excited, though... I don't have a car yet” <br/><br/>“I'm just – impressed. You're a very collected little lady, huh?” <br/><br/>“Some have said as much.” <br/><br/>“Great, just great! I've got a good feeling about this, Miss Mashiro! Uh, anyway, I'll be taking my leave, and – and I'm glad you're checking around the house, a bit. Y'know, my parents aren't getting any younger, and...” <br/><br/>There was a time when people had told her not to talk as much; perhaps not as many as she remembered, not truly. <br/><br/>Suddenly, it felt as if people were talking to her ceaselessly, and it was <em>exhausting, </em>but... Neither did she feel any particular desire to flee from it. There was no great revulsion, no moment where she wanted to tell him to be silent, to stop talking about his worries, his cares. <br/><br/>About his mother's addiction to online shopping, his father's recent stroke. <br/>The high price of actually keeping a horse; the higher price of trying to keep it in good shape. <br/><br/><em>Maybe, </em> she wondered, <em>listening is a skill of mine.</em> <br/><br/>Or, perhaps... <br/><br/><em> Perhaps the people who told you you were so loud were fools. <br/>Maybe some of them might even have regretted it; and if they didn't... <br/>Does that matter, did anything they said... </em> <br/><br/>“You all right, Mashiro?” <br/><br/>“F, fine, Yamamura. Just go – drive off! I've got to do something – “ <br/><br/>“As you are. Don't be a stranger, though. My parents really do love seeing you around, and, and...” <br/><br/>He trailed off, shrugged, and smiled a well-meaning smile. <br/>Not even months ago, she might have found some secret betrayal in it, a reason to resent it, and hold it against him, but... <br/><br/>It was simple, a smile. <br/>Nothing more, and nothing less. <br/><br/>Yuri had already began scanning the wide streets for her ride, such as it was. One of the downsides of this place was that plenty of people didn't have garages, and parking along the side of the street was just kind of... <em>ah!</em> <br/><br/>The whip of the air felt almost as gentle as a honed edge against her face. She'd been surprised to find out how well she'd taken to the open road, and felt a twinge of regret that she needed to curtail it, too, lest she grow too fond of it, but... <br/><br/>She'd began to understood why grandfather had been such a tinkerer, among other things, and always talked excitedly about sportscars, just like the little models he collected... <br/><br/>Natsuki's house was not wretched. <br/>It was not obviously in disrepair. <br/>The outside of it seemed about as well-made as any other house in this part of town, and if it had some weather damge? Such was life in the country. <br/><br/>... But the yard was brown, and overgrown, and strewn with bits of plastic and broken glass. <br/><br/>Oh, not so many that the neighbours would notice, and lodge a complaint (but not <em>care</em>); never that. Just whatever littering a man could get away with, in his house – his castle. <br/><br/>Yuri honked the accessory horn she'd bought, a little more aggressively then she'd intended. <br/><br/>A blurry shadow behind a window stared, shifted – sweated, a bit. <br/><br/><em> She stared back, and the shadow shook, a bit. <br/>A bit, always. Because men like him were always cowards, in the end. <br/>Her lips felt dry; she wondered if, just maybe, if she bellowed a challenge... </em> <br/><br/>“Coming, hold your... Hor...” <br/><br/>Natsuki popped out the front door, wearing a grey beanie jauntily on her head, and black sunglasses balanced precariously against the aforementioned beanie. That, combined with an overlarge sports jersey that'd been sewn over several times, with all sorts of cute patches, along with khaki shorts and some <em>very old </em>shoes... <br/><br/>And she was looking none the worse for wear. <br/>Which was standard, these days. All was well. <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>“Of <em>course</em> you'd have a Rabbit. What, are you going to downgrade to a military bicycle, next? From <em>1905?</em>”</p><p>“It was cute, so I bought it. If you're going to take issue with my <em>exceptional</em> taste, you're welcome to walk.” <br/><br/>“No, thank you. I'm gonna just wait here and admire your caboose for a bit, but I'm not walking all the way there with all my stuff. You <em>have</em> to take me, or... I'll...” <br/><br/>Chewing words over a singularly displaced fang, Natsuki grinned good-naturedly. <br/><br/>“Puncture your tires!” <br/><br/>“All right. If that's what you want to do, though – it just means I'll stay here.” <br/><br/>How amazing, how two pairs of eyes could do everything but meet. <br/>Natsuki's face was flush with – shame, and embarrassment, and<em>anger.</em> She kept looking as if she wanted to say something, say so <em>much, </em>but said nothing at all. <br/><br/>It was safer for her to look at the ground, so she did, watching the withered grass sway. <br/><br/>Yuri could just make out the sweat of the shadow indoors, scared that some kind of karma was finally going to come his way. She imagined his ferocious prayers to Christ-Kannon-Uzume for some kind of heavenly benediction... <br/><br/>Which was fine. <br/><em> Perhaps some god in their high heaven could forgive him; she would </em> <em><strong>not.</strong></em> <br/><br/>“... s'fine.” <br/><br/>She had to blink several times, having forgotten to as the shade trembled. <br/>Such a simple thing, and she'd taken it for granted. Snapping her fingers irritably, Yuri turned to where – Natsuki was looking straight at her, normally earnest face entirely unreadable. <br/><br/>“It's... Fine, if you wanna stay here. Is all. Forget it, just! Forget it!” <br/><br/>“No.” <br/><br/>Yuri replied, voice hoarse, and clambered onto the scooter. <br/>... Seconds passed, but she didn't let them turn into minutes, this time. <br/><br/>“Ehmn, you're going to have to – cling a bit, so...” <br/><br/>They drove in silence, leaving that dead house and its other occupant to whatever it was they did. <br/><br/>... Natsuki was clinging to her, and very tightly indeed. <br/><br/>“You – surely seemed like you brought a lot of stuff. Most of mine is already on the site, since I got a bit excited.” <br/><br/>“That so? I guess I understand. It's been awhile since we've all done something like this!” <br/><br/>Natsuki recovered quickly. <br/><br/>Unlike – herself, or Sayori, as long as there was a pathway open to her, she could seize it. <br/>Mostly. <br/><br/>Even if it was only a glimpse, caught in the mirror, Natsuki's undefeatable smile conveyed something that Yuri felt certain she didn't truly have. Might <em>never</em> have. Yet, she felt fine with that, not – resentful, nor cruel. <br/><br/>S<em>trange.</em> <br/><br/>“What would we do without you, Natsuki...” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered, carefully watching the road with sharp eyes that belied her beginner's sticker. <br/>Natsuki snorted from behind her, and knelt in a bit more. <br/><br/>She – didn't mind, at all... <br/><br/>“Die, probably. Lesse, you'd become a ghost, obviously, Monika probably ends up staring at a corner, or something, Sayori is the last one out and makes it somehow because I'm not killing Sayori in this hypothetical <em>aaaaaaand</em> fuck, I can't remember his name, he gets eaten by zombies.” <br/><br/>“... You learn well...” <br/><br/>“My tutor is an airhead, but I don't hate her.” <br/><br/>“Nothing you've shown me yet has any real horror to it, Yuri! It's like, y'know, someone read a bit of Bio Meat and focused on the gore. I thought you'd be into more – suggestive, subtle stuff.” <br/><br/>“I am.” <br/><br/>She paused as the roads faded, becoming less and less maintained. Perhaps there'd even be a shrine on this hill at some point; if there ever had, it had long since been forgotten and abandoned, the tutelary god of this region just another condemned deity, lost to time. <br/><br/>A beautiful thought; she smiled. <br/><br/>“But I also love... Beautiful things, I suppose. Don't you think it's impressive how artists manage to create practical effects?” <br/><br/>“Not really!” <br/><br/>“Don't sound so – cheerful about that. Violence is a part of life, just like love or... Death, really. People put incredible passion into creating an atmosphere where you can believe that last breath is real. Respect it!” <br/><br/>Howling with laughter, Natsuki tried to rebut that image several times, only to laugh some more. <br/><br/>“You, you sounded like some old lady, trying to imitate a drill sergeant. You gonna lecture me on morals, next?” <br/><br/>“I might. You need some good moral fibre in your life.” <br/><br/>“Like I need a hole in the head.” <br/><br/>Natsuki rolled her eyes, only for them to brighten significantly as they turned another corner road. Yuri could feel her hands slip free, and begin patting her shoulders so excitedly it might be a kind of attack. <br/><br/>“Yuriyuriyuri we're here!” <br/><br/>“I am <em>aware.</em>” <br/><br/>She replied snidely, and this time they both burst into laughter. <br/>The sun wasn't quite low yet, but the campsite had already seen some construction, two tents already up. <br/><br/>Natsuki 'hummed' to herself, staring intently at the scooter as they dismounted. <br/><br/>“Wait, so, what's her name? You <em>did</em> name her, right?” <br/><br/>“Maybe it's a gentleman.” <br/><br/>“Nope, I refuse to believe it.” <br/><br/>“... Fine, you caught me. It's <em>Genmei.</em>” <br/><br/>“O, oho, that's actually pretty good. A <em>bit</em> old-fashioned, but whatever, you do you. Genmei, huh? Nice to meetcha, oh, wait, let's go see if the others are here – “ <br/><br/>“They practically have to be. I'd hate... To have come all this way, and not have refreshments...” <br/><br/>Yuri grumbled, only slightly nostalgic for a time she might have climbed this place on her own or – with someone else, and only slightly wistful for the time she'd imagined it as an insurmountable mountain, far and distant, a border to an unknowable land. <br/><br/>... Natsuki was staring at her, intently. <br/>Expression unreadable, once more. <br/><br/>“W... What? I don't look terrible, do I...” <br/><br/>“No. Dummy. Of course I have refreshments.” <br/><br/>“<em>oh.</em>” <br/><br/>She had to hand Natsuki that one, but – Natsuki's expression hadn't changed. <br/><br/>“Y'know in – in that manga I lent you. I know that sometimes, you see the horizon, and think...” <br/><br/>For a few moments, Natsuki grappled for words (while wordlessly handing her a metal water bottle with a <em>very</em> cute bear sticker on it.), before finally sighing and grumbling to herself. <br/><br/>“I don't know <em>what</em> you think, I just know you've – it used to mean something to you. And now you can go, right? You can just – leave, if you want. And I'm... Still stuck here.” <br/><br/>“But I don't want to go, anywhere, anymore...” <br/><br/>“Maybe you will someday. I would. I think about it all the time.” <br/><br/>Natsuki shut her eyes, lost in thought. <br/>Her fists neither clenched nor shook, and yet she noticed them all the same. <br/><br/>“So. Maybe I'll get my licence, too. Maybe I'll leave you behind.” <br/><br/>“...” <br/><br/>There were a lot of things she could have said; and each of them would've been wrong, or – or cruel. In fact, it was burning within her, that <em>fire.</em> The part of her she found the most ugly, the part of her that was the most <em>her,</em> uncontrollable and present no matter how much she wished it wasn't. And it would've been content to say something worse, yet... <br/><br/>“I'll look forward to it.” <br/><br/>... What she said might have been even worse, still. <br/>And yet. And <em>yet.</em> <br/><br/>“H, hahaha, yeah, you better! And when I bust out of this sleepy dump, you're gonna have to chase after me!” <br/><br/>“Why<em>ever</em> would I do <em>that?</em>” <br/><br/>Yuri pretended to snort, crossing her arms under her chest. <br/>Her eyes half-shut, and she was going to say something else, playfully smug, when... <br/>She realised. <br/><br/>Natsuki was looking at her, and that unreadable expression – oh. <em>oh.</em> <br/><br/>They were silent as they marched into the makeshift camp. The only person present, was... <br/><br/>“Nice!~ The reconstituted Literature Club, revived... TODAY!” <br/><br/>“Reconstituted... You surely could've chose something better than that, Monika.” <br/><br/>Monika was bouncing up and down excitably, wearing a camo-green tied shirt, blue jeans, and a smile. A particularly winsome smile, at that. To be fair, they'd planned this for some time, and to be even fair-er, Yuri had realised she was – excited about it. <br/><br/>“Sorry, Yuri. It's all reconstituted literature, these days. Why, did you know? Most movies are just adaptations of books adapted from screenplays or comics! That's pretty interesting, don't you think?” <br/><br/>“More sad than interesting, but – yes, actually. I do.” <br/><br/>“Elegant, mature, understanding! That's our Yuri!~” <br/><br/>“I'm really not... Any of those things...” <br/><br/>“She really ain't!” <br/><br/>“Nobody asked you, pipsqueak.” <br/><br/>Their pleasant bickering was brought to a premature end by Monika interposing herself between them, green eyes shimmying shiftily this way and that. <br/><br/>“Hey now. No fighting in the club zone. I mean, who knows what might happen! You could summon... A bear!” <br/><br/>“woahcoolabear – “ <br/><br/>Natsuki's eyes briefly shone, like tiny pastel stars. <br/>Then, very quickly, she coughed and affected disinterest, waving her hand in Monika's general direction. <br/><br/>“I mean, <em>please.</em> A bear, Monika? What are you, twelve?” <br/><br/>“They say bears can detect argument energy – “ <br/><br/>“Who says that? Literally <em>who?</em>” <br/><br/>“... You two should stop joking about bears.” <br/><br/>Feeling a little proud as they both eyed her up in confusion, Yuri shrugged enigmatically, letting her dark hair flow behind her. <br/><br/>“Anyway. What can I do to help? Club President...” <br/><br/>“HhhhHHhHhhmn. How about you, uh, er... You're just so dainty... Could you chop some wood, or something?” <br/><br/>“I <em>think</em> I can manage that much.” <br/><br/>Her slight smile was the kind she favoured most; from behind a fortress of dark hair, enigmatic and saying only what she wanted it to say. The sort of smile that confounded people who didn't care to know her, and gave a small kind of courage to her friends; and if she could not be the person she'd dreamed herself, this was enough. <br/><br/>... Chopping firewood was <em>hard,</em> however, and it might have been... <br/>Too much. <br/><br/>Sighing, Yuri lay against one of the thin and reedy mountain trees. <br/><br/>Feeling clammy underneath the short, dark violet jacket she'd chosen, she wanted to throw it off, wind it around her waist and get back to work; but she wasn't strong, it wouldn't help, and of course – they'd <em>know.</em> <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>“How long have you been there? Monika... Doesn't have some kind of job for you?” <br/><br/>“She did; I finished it already, since I'm not you.” <br/><br/>“... Glad to hear it.” <br/><br/>Yuri managed to smile, through her own fogged-over breathing. <br/>Natsuki – wasn't smiling, though. <br/>She still had that pensive look on her face, the one she got right before she got <em>frustrated,</em> and didn't quite have an outlet for it. <br/><br/>“Okay, so – so listen. You get it, right? That I – that I like you.” <br/><br/>“Naturally. I like you, too.” <br/><br/>“I – don't know if you do. It feels kinda like we mean two different things. I can take it if it's just us being – <em>different, </em>okay? People are. That's – fine. But I have to know, it's driving me up the wall.” <br/><br/><em> She'd had a suspicion, of course. <br/>But some part of her that clung to an idealised moral propriety told her it was impossible. <br/>And Yuri knew that if she decided it was possible, she'd start looking at Natsuki the same way. <br/>With the same feelings she'd had before. <br/><br/>The same </em> <em><strong>hunger.</strong></em></p><p>“Natsuki, I'm... Not, I don't think it would be good to talk like this, right now...” <br/><br/>“When, then?” <br/><br/>It wasn't harsh; and it occurred to Yuri that Natsuki had been patient with her this <em>entire time, </em>over the course of <em>years.</em> She wanted to howl, and to run away, and to return home. <br/>But that wasn't possible; her house was hardly 'home' in the first place. <br/><br/>“... Tomorrow, early in the morning. Before I have the chance to think.” <br/><br/>“Uh, I – I see. That's actually quicker than I'd thought – “ <br/><br/>“Yes, well. I'm agreeable if I just don't think too much.” <br/><br/>“No, you aren't.” <br/><br/>Yuri winced, just a bit. Natsuki was trying to stare into her hand, and not <em>stare,</em> so very much. But now, Yuri couldn't help but see it, all the same. <br/><br/>“I mean, you aren't ever agreeable, and that's okay with me. I don't think if we just – talked like normal all the time, we'd even be friends. But I – want to get to know your shitty, argumentative side a bit better, too. So we don't do that as much, right? So that we're more than friends.” <br/><br/>Put like that – <br/><br/>“Mmn, then... I don't... Hate it, you know.” <br/><br/>Clouds filled the sky above; heavy, as if it might rain. Their swollen grey corpses floated down a river that might be called memory, and she bore them no hatred. There was only one thing she feared, and it had nothing to do with Natsuki. <br/><br/>So. <br/><br/>Inhaling deeply, Yuri tried to focus on anything but Natsuki's teeth, ground against each other. But at the same time, she had to at least <em>try.</em> <br/><br/>“Just... Let me think about this. How long have you really... Noticed me, like this?” <br/><br/>“<em>SHEESH,</em> Yuri. Pretty much since we – met up again. I don't remember being very subtle about it, either. But since your head is as empty as your taste is bad, it's f, fine if you didn't fucking... Pick up on it...” <br/><br/>Yuri shut her eyes. <br/>She had to keep them shut; if they fluttered open, if she could see Natsuki, Natsuki would see <em>her,</em> and all the terrible ugliness inside of her that was suggesting it was fine if anyone felt this way towards her, and if the possibility had been impossible before, it wasn't anymore... <br/><br/>And so it was quite fine to feel... Reciprocal, even if she couldn't feel the same without it... <br/>Becoming... <br/><br/>Her fingers felt their way to her heart, and she was saved by a peal of nervous laughter. <br/><br/>“You totally aren't gonna feel yourself up after I said that?! What the hell is your damage! Yuri...” <br/><br/>“That's – I didn't... I wasn't...” <br/><br/>And she didn't/wasn't/hasn't, for certain. <br/>This time, at least. For now, she was <em>safe.</em> <br/><br/>“I just didn't expect you to – consider me...” <br/><br/>But what did Natsuki consider her? <br/>Pretty, perhaps? Maybe even <em>beautiful.</em> Or any other manner of florid lies that others could repeat so easily, so tenderly... Or refuse to say at all. <br/><br/>And maybe that <em>did </em>bother her. The idea that – she'd gotten close to someone, a... A friend, and Natsuki had only admitted as such because she had... 'An amazing body.' <br/><br/>Inhale. <br/><br/>Exhale. <br/><br/><strong>No.</strong> That was clearly, so terribly clearly not the case. Natsuki was as nervous about this as <em>she</em> was, and could barely manage to look at her without looking away – only for her bright, inquisitive eyes to search her out, again and again. <br/><br/>And... Other people she'd known had been almost bored, when they weren't feigning interest. Natsuki – rarely seemed bored. By anything. Yuri felt her throat tighten, because this was another line, and if she crossed it too thoughtfully... <br/><br/>Thoughtlessly. <br/>She'd meant thoughtlessly, or perhaps – <br/><br/>“So, you, er... Don't dislike how I look...” <br/><br/>“I don't really like your fashion sense – “ <br/><br/><em> and perhaps that meant something other than what it might have meant, with how dangerously the words lingered </em> <br/><br/>“ – but yeah, obviously. I mean... Terribly obviously. You could be a heroine in some... Really amazing manga, where the protagonist has to wear an embarrassing costume, and does so without a care in the world!” <br/><br/>“Why do you look so proud about that. No. Wait, don't you dare stop smiling. I cannot believe you just... Compared me to one of your... OooooooOoooo...” <br/><br/>“Sorry. I just thought it'd lighten the mood, a bit, I – “ <br/><br/>“... Would you dislike it if I... Dressed like that, some time?” <br/><br/>“I? I, uh, er, uh... Onemomentplease.” <br/><br/>Natsuki sat against the hillock dirt, hands against her knees. Her face was a mask of utter concentration, as if communing with some higher power known only to herself. <br/><br/>Thoughtfully, Yuri sat next to her. <br/>And – she'd always been, a bit... <br/>Greedy, so... <br/><br/>Forcing herself to stop shaking, she put her hand against Natsuki's thigh. <br/>If a smaller hand found hers, and took it, then it was – normal, for things like that to happen. <br/>But it hadn't happened before. Had it... <br/><br/>She tried to remember how to inhale, and couldn't. <br/><br/>Natsuki's hand was trembling, too. <br/>But it was warm. <br/>And a little calloused. Not entirely different from hers. <br/><br/>“That's... My answer, then.” <br/><br/>Yuri said, stodgily. <br/>She was greeted with stifled, uneven laughter from Natsuki, who managed to suppress a toothy smile just long enough to look serious. <br/><br/>“Okay, well – that's good enough for me. You uh, have... Incredibly soft fingertips.” <br/><br/>“I – I do?” <br/><br/>“Yeah. They're not – gross, like mine.” <br/><br/>And she would've chosen a thousand words to describe this little physical intimacy, but none of them were gross. It was like being cast adrift for a terribly long time, only to suddenly find a cold glass of water on distant shores. <br/><br/>No. That was too – elabourate. <br/><br/>“I'd like to do this more often. Because you have... Very lovely hands. I – I can tell you, you know... Bake, things...” <br/><br/>“... knead your dough...” <br/><br/>Mumbled Natsuki, the first and last bits of a rather <em>interesting </em> sentence having just evaded Yuri's ears, and pulled her beanie over her very, very red face. <br/><br/>“I'll look forward to it, then. But for now, you can help me chop wood!” <br/><br/>“You, was this all a trick to help you gather firewood?” <br/><br/>“No.” <br/><br/>She replied, in awe of how breathless a word could sound. <br/>... Natsuki hiked the beanie up a bit, her gaze hesitant – as if joking had been a test, and she expected some kind of hidden betrayal, <em>herself.</em> <br/><br/>“Well... Good then. Right. Cool. I'll – help you with that wood.” <br/><br/>And despite the fact that neither of them were particularly good at it, between the two of them and all the time they'd spent talking, they did a <em>fine</em> job. Yuri still remembered the tricks to gathering good dry starters she'd learned growing up, and how to set pinecones alight if need be... <br/><br/>“Nicely done, you two!~ But wait, I only set Yuri out? Na-tsu-ki! Leaving me out here, by myself...” <br/><br/>Monika feigned a sniffle, though a <em>very</em> sharp look had drifted into her impossibly green eyes. And Yuri felt her throat clench up again, because if anyone knew how to... Make things terribly interesting, it was Monika, and – <br/><br/>“Aw, crap. I'm sorry, Monika. I didn't mean to leave you alone, but I did wanna check in on Yuri, since she can be kinda spacey.” <br/><br/>“<em>Spacey?</em>” <br/><br/>“Entirely spacey. Also, shush. Uh, my bad. Can I make up for it...” <br/><br/>And Natsuki was so earnest and sincere that it would've taken a heart of stone not to feel a bit sorry for her; but fortunately, Monika's heart beat and thrummed as any that had ever been, and her joyous guffaw as Sayori jumped out from behind her (and Sayori's pal wandered out from behind her, hands in his pockets, and muttered a mild 'hey') made it clear that, well... <br/><br/>“Sorry for pulling one over on you, Natsuki. But the gang's all here!” <br/><br/>Thus it was that the first meeting of the (reconstituted) literature club had begin! Though Yuri <em>did</em> wonder if a three-member club with two hangers-on counted as a club, really... <br/><br/>Soon, a sea of small tents had been drawn up, and with the sun finally conceding defeat to the evening sky, the purpose of a good camping trip could come to pass. She was shocked to find she didn't have a clue what that purpose might be, and although Yuri felt strongly that scary stories and mischief ought to be a part of it... <br/><br/>It was just as nice loitering around an open cookstove, watching everyone but Sayori fail to roast their marshmallows. <br/><br/>“<strong>Okay, everyone!</strong>” <br/><br/>Four people jumped into the air as Monika's open palms struck against each other with enough force that it might've been thunder. <br/><br/>Sayori's lip wibbled as her perfectly roasted marshmallow danced through fire, and rolled to the ground. She gave it a soft pat, then sighed and rubbed slightly sticky fingers against the jacket of her companion, who neither seemed to notice nor mind. <br/><br/>“As club leader and all-around mastermind of this little escape, I have plans laid out!~ Of course, I'm always open to plans being overruled, buuuuut... I think you'll like what I have in store for you.” <br/><br/>“Normally I'd give you my vote as VP, but... My marshmallow...” <br/><br/>“Your confidence is noted and appreciated, adorable #1 minion! I'll make it up to you later. Probably!” <br/><br/>“Tsch, look at her lying face!” <br/><br/>Natsuki whispered cheerfully, and Yuri tried to look very hard as if she <em>wasn't</em> doing just that. <br/><br/>There was something strangely beautiful about eyes. No, there had always been something strangely beautiful about eyes; was green the colour of jealousy, or serpents? She'd – read something about it, but couldn't quite think, at the moment... <br/><br/>A sharp pain under her gut, courtesy of a small-but-surprisingly-strong elbow brought her back to the present, and she'd never been more grateful for Natsuki's snort of laughter. <br/><br/>“I get it, you're in love with her, <em>too.</em>” <br/><br/>“... Well, isn't everybody...” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered, and wondered if she would have been afraid of voicing that thought at some point. Natsuki snorted again, but... It was quieter this time, and she seemed aggressively focused on burning another marshmallow until nothing was left but cinders of cinders. <br/><br/>“No.” <br/><br/>Monika was waving her finger in the air, looking incredibly proud about something, and Yuri decided to pretend to listen. <br/><br/>It had been a mistake, of course. Relationships were complex, terribly fragile things; like memories. You carried them with you until you broke them, and then spent entire lifetimes trying to repair them, with flecks of gold and woven silk. <br/><br/>“... which is why you should be revealing your secret weapons... Right about... Now!~” <br/><br/>Grumbling, Sayori's man-friend pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his coat. Sayori made a sound like 'oooo' and dug in her pockets with a determined expression, tongue hanging out from her mouth. Bits of string, candy wrappers, a pog, and several other objects that Yuri mentally considered OOPARTs were deposited in a neat pile that she'd neatly throw back into her pockets later. <br/><br/>“Got mine!” <br/><br/>Clutching the single sheet of paper to her chest, Sayori stared at Monika, expectantly. And – the green-eyed devil herself reached smugly into a pocket, and... Rustled around, a bit... And... Started to sweat, just a little. <br/><br/>“Moooooonika. Don't tell me you practically <em>dragged</em> Yuri's bony ass here, and you don't have your own freakin' poem. See, I even brought one!” <br/><br/>Natsuki's was neatly folded. Like she'd – kept it especially safe, for whatever reason. <br/>Yuri did her best not to think about why, and coughed – politely, oh-so-politely. <br/>Like she'd practised. <br/><br/>“I also happen to have brought one. Meagre an offering as it might be... Ms. Pres.” <br/><br/>“Hey, don't bully me, guys! This happens to everyone once or twice! I may have failed as your president, but I'll never fail as your friend!” <br/><br/>“Don't try to salvage it.” <br/><br/>The lone man grumbled, but it was a congenial grumble at that. <br/><br/>“Fine, fine, <em>fine!</em> You wanna play that way, watch how a real buster rolls! Can someone count me in?” <br/><br/>Even if the two of them had left the literature club, it wasn't as if they'd left the <em>literature club;</em> a distinction that might have only mattered in that moment. Yuri coughed, and began humming what she hoped was a fine beat, while Natsuki drummed her fingers against her knees and occasionally snapped her fingers. <br/><br/>After awhile, Sayori started to carry a tune; her voice remaining as captivating as ever. <br/><br/>Monika paced back and forth, clearly looking for some kind of opening, some perfect thought to seize and turn into the electric energy that was <em>poetry.</em> It didn't seem like she'd seized it, and the moment might have passed, when... <br/><br/>“<em>ah!</em>” <br/><br/>Once more, fingers met, and a different kind of thunder sounded. <br/>Despite the earlier humour, everyone trailed off. Monika nodded to herself, twice. <br/>Shut her eyes; smiled.</p><p>“<em>You probably think<br/></em><em> that I am under attack <br/>but you might as well run <br/>and never look back <br/></em><em><strong>STOP!</strong>”</em> <br/><br/></p><p>And, of course, everything did. The night had come in, and the first stars were visible ahead, twinkling as merrily and brightly as reflections, in the green eyes of a poet.</p><p>“ <em> No escape <br/>no rest <br/>no reason <br/>for wickedness <br/><br/>because treasonous reason is <br/>reasoned delerium <br/>and here I am thinking <br/>you're seizing the keys to my <br/></em><em> fear I am at the locks <br/>at your door <br/>teasing the tears back in <br/>like matchsticks or monsters <br/>in the garden of reason <br/></em><em>so without hesitation<br/></em><em>let's begin!”</em></p><p><em> <br/></em> Her gesture at the end, hand held out to the sky, might have been a bit much, but... <br/>Appreciative applause was the only thing the devil ever sought, after all; and having found a captive audience, she receded with dignity. <br/><br/>“I coulda made it better. I mean, it was okay!~ But, there we go. Once again, I've demonstrated my awesome talent!~” <br/><br/>“Nah, that was cool! It <em>almost</em> makes me wish I'd stayed in the club, though... You're all gonna be pretty impressed with how far I've come. I mean, not that I'm bragging, but... Well, marshmallows aren't really good enough, right...” <br/><br/>As it turned out, there was a reason Natsuki had brought so much stuff. The tinfoil wrapped bounty she produced, one item after another, brought a much louder wave of applause – because as fine as sharing hard work was... <br/><br/>“Oh, oh... Sayori's stomach thanks you, Natsuki! From the bottom of her – stomach...” <br/><br/>“Don't talk about yourself in the first person, Sayori's stomach.” <br/><br/>He tried to elbow her, but Sayori proved oblivious, eyes shining as she compared a cold sandwich and a pale yellow-frosted cupcake as if they were made from gold and silver, and she needed to decided which was hers. <br/><br/>“The sandwiches are called mountain sandwiches. Yuri told me about them! Turns out her head isn't entirely vampire novels and bad taste!” <br/><br/>“I... have no interest in <em>vampires,</em> the <em>hell, </em> Na-tsu-ki...” <br/><br/>Quibbling felt good, and she wondered if they were quibbling because Natsuki had noticed it, and wanted to – de-escalate things. Which was – terribly kind of her, if so. But her mind was moving too <em>fast, </em>and right now she just needed the night to be a night, nothing more... <br/><br/>So she needed to thank the girl smiling so brightly at her and insinuating lies about night-creatures, all the same. <br/><br/>Tomorrow. She'd have to do it, tomorrow. <br/><br/>“But you're admitting your taste is bad, hokay-doke. Anyway, you grill'em over the fire, like so...” <br/><br/>Despite having eaten 'dessert' first, a proper dinner and second dessert, capped up with tinned coffee and tea, made for a remarkably peaceful atmosphere. Yuri hadn't been entirely unarmed herself, choosing the last minute to introduce Mssr. Mersault (the second): but, because this had been a rather hastily planned event... <br/><br/>Mssr. Mersault (the second) was <em>actually</em> a cheap bottle branded as <em>stranger</em> in katakana that she'd gotten in a panic because she had to bring <em>something!</em></p><p>Even still, Monika and Sayori graciously accepted a cup, and she kept the bottle to herself... Completely ignoring the 'uh, uhuhuhuh' from Sayori's... Terrible, useless, man-friend. This wasn't so unusual, after all – <br/><br/>“E, easy there, Yuri. You're gonna, uhm...” <br/><br/>“I'll be okay. This is <em>gutter trash,</em> after all.” <br/><br/>Sniffed Yuri, and Natsuki's relief lasted only a second before it was hidden again. <br/><br/>“Oh, cool, drunk Yuri is just snobby Yuri. No different then normal!” <br/><br/>“Er, ehehe, Yuri, if it's gutter trash, why'd you share it with us? I'm not entirely sure, I...” <br/><br/>“Obviously. Because friends like <em>you</em> make even cheap wine... Ambient, and rich... And I personally think, you... You know, you're just the best, really. That's all.” <br/><br/>Her cheeks were flush, and she hardly had the excuse of cheap, boxless wine to blame for that. <br/>Anyway, regret was for the dead; and she didn't disbelieve a word of it. <br/>Sayori smiled, to her side; perhaps her expression was sad, or perhaps it was happy. <br/><br/>Most of all, perhaps it was a mixture of the two. <br/><br/>“... Then I suppose I just wish a squishy friend like you would take better care of yourself.” <br/><br/>“Squishy.” <br/><br/>It was the second time someone had – psychically, Yuri screamed that she really, truly, absolutely could not deal with this right now, pleading for Sayori to interpret the energy waves she was sending over with the skepticism of someone who had never <em>truly</em> believed in the supernatural, but <em>desperately</em> needed the supernatural to save her, right now. <br/><br/>Perking up, Sayori nodded, and snuggled her tin camping mug next to her cheek. <br/><br/>“Right, squishy! The squishiest part of Yuri is her big heart, after all. So, you know... When you try to grind up something that's already kind of squishy, it gets – you know, jangled...” <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>Ah. <br/><br/>The atmosphere had become as peaceful and pleasant as the moments before – before something happened. Only, there was no... No violent revenge, no nightmare beyond distant hills, something she'd created or brought upon herself. <br/><br/>Friends, huh? <br/>And she had a... Squishy heart... <br/><br/>“I guess it'd probably be a good time to continue with our poems, then. I don't know if I want to hear about Yuri's squishy bits, after all!~” <br/><br/>“Well, of course, since Monika's best part is her kindness!” <br/><br/>Monika frowned at Sayori's gentle smile, and quickly reversed it. <br/>With a wink, she pointed at Natsuki, who grinned and cricked her neck from side to side, rolled her shoulders, and got up from the log she'd been sitting on... <br/><br/>A little close to Yuri. Not super closer, just – close enough. <br/><br/>“I put a lot of effort into this one, and it's a bit different. Also, thanks Monika. I appreciated your advice.” <br/><br/>The thing was, for all her perfection, Monika seemed to have so many little doubts; so many that Yuri had almost wanted to start keeping track of them, jotting them down in hidden notebooks as a study for herself. <br/><br/>She never expected people to thank her, genuinely. For something personal, rather than a trait, like how she was... Good, at everything, really, and... <br/><br/>“Awwww, think nothing of it, errant clubgoer! Wherever a heart keeps literature alive, so shall I be there!~ So, gogogo!” <br/><br/>“Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on, I'm gogogoing...” <br/><br/>Natsuki found a small stump, and placed her foot against it. <br/>Her eyes closed, and she whispered a few of the words aloud, but too quietly to be audible. <br/>After she'd found the tone she wanted, she smirked, then smiled, and finally <br/>spoke: <br/><br/></p><p>“ <em> Yesterday, I thought I saw midnight. <br/>Right in the middle of the day? <br/>Crazy, huh. <br/><br/>Like somebody had decided<br/>to paint the aurora <br/>downtown. <br/>And I thought that was a waste<br/>of paint. <br/><br/>Who'd throw away all their colours <br/>in a dark shade <br/>on a dead end? <br/>They'd have to be crazy, too. <br/><br/>Funny thing is, I kind of like midnight. <br/>Whether it's dark, or bright, or moonlit, or you. <br/>So if you want to throw all that paint <br/>down the drain<br/>then at least let me know <br/>before you do.” </em></p><p>Natsuki beamed and bowed, and took in the applause and Sayori's appreciative cheer with magnanimity. Despite having left the literature club, she was – born for this, really. And Yuri wanted to say so terribly much, but... <br/><br/>It was better, she decided, if she said nothing at all, and clapped. <br/><br/>“Anyway, that's <em>Midnight.</em> I was <em>gonna</em> call it 'waste of paint,' but Monika said that was too wordy for a title!” <br/><br/>“That's right!~ A good title should be short and sweet, I think. There are exceptions, but... You're going to be saying a lot in the poem already, right, everyone? Which is why a one-word title can be so powerful!” <br/><br/>“Ugh, y'know, when you say it like that, I kind of feel like I should've ignored you and kept the original title – “ <br/><br/>Natsuki shrugged into the air, as if it couldn't be helped, and stepped off of the trunk. <br/>She flashed a look towards Yuri, betraying nothing of her own thoughts, and – <br/><br/>Yuri wondered, for a minute, if maybe Natsuki weren't better at keeping secrets than she was. <br/><br/>Dusting off her hands against worn hiking jeans that were slightly uncomfortable, Yuri winced as she got up, and wanted terribly to complain about her back; but after so many comments this evening, it just – now wasn't the time. <br/><br/>“All right, I – don't think I can really compete with that. Uhmn, I don't normally like your poetry, Natsuki – “ <br/><br/>“Yeah, yeah, and what else is new?!”<br/><br/>Grinning as if she hadn't expected any other answer, Natsuki lay contently against a half-split tree. <br/><br/>“ – But I feel like you... It was a very good poem, that's all. Uh, mine isn't actually a poem, though, I do hope that's all right...” <br/><br/>“As long as it isn't a book report on that Russian guy. I had to feign interest for like, what, three entire minutes – “ <br/><br/>Sayori's acquaintance begin, only to be quieted by a surprisingly lethal glare from Sayori's sharp blue eyes. Even sunshine could bring showers, after all; oh, or perhaps Sayori had been a little interested in the history, of... <br/><br/>“... No. I actually returned <em>Portrait</em> to the library earlier. I had some late fees to pay back, anyway. I've read it cover to cover... How many times, now? I probably know more about Markov's life than the biographer himself, I should say.” <br/><br/>Her pride swelled and wavered, even as Natsuki snorted. <br/>Yuri wondered if she would have ever returned it, if she hadn't been conned into checking out the 'pivotal' magical girl manga featuring that 'godfather' fellow, or something. <br/><br/>... And her smiled swelled a bit, too. <br/><br/>“HmmMmmm!~ I don't think that's possible, Yuri. The author always has a fine view of their creations. Even if you ascribe to the idea that the audience interpretation is as valid, there's so much supplemental material the reader will never understand...” <br/><br/>“R, respectfully... That's <em> bullshit.” <br/><br/></em> Everyone burst into laughter – and she was surprised to find herself laughing, too. <br/>But! There was a point, it was a good one, and she was going to make it! <br/>Adjusting strands of darkened hair, she tried to remember it, before good cheer erased it entirely. <br/><br/>“I just... Markov was a real person. The biographer came up with his own conclusions as to the... Likely grisly end of that fellow. And that's it; the rest is history. And implying there was more to come in the cliffnotes was, it was <em>cruel.</em> Like offering water to somebody dying of dehydration.” <br/><br/>Her lips felt dry. <br/>Monika was staring at her, with a piercing expression. <br/><br/>“And I'd rather – the biographer move on to something else, something he <em>cared</em> about then... Forcing himself to write more, that he doesn't want to write, or lacks the ability to – to handle.” <br/><br/>She bore no ill will; he was only a biographer, after all. <br/>Only an eye, in a sea of eyes. <br/>Nobody could be faulted for trusting their initial impressions... But neither would she praise him.<br/><br/>“Perhaps there's nothing more to write, perhaps everything is... Predetermined. I cannot, will not accept that. Unrelated to my... Contribution tonight, I just – nobody is just a collection of words, mandated by diktat from one soul's iron view.” <br/><br/>“Oh, lordy, Yuri, if you start hammering on about muscle guy – “ <br/><br/>“This has <em>nothing</em> to do with him, Natsuki! These are my <em>own</em> feelings!” <br/><br/>Dangit, she was... Laughing, again, but she'd made her point. <br/>Perhaps she'd write her own interpretation of <em>Portrait</em> someday, do her own research on those terrible, beautiful events. Even if she never did, however – she had long since realised Markov was as much a prisoner as that count, or any number of famous historical figures. <br/><br/>They were trapped in words, and she would not... Acceept... <br/><br/>Sighing, and trying to clear her mind, she placed her hands behind her back. <br/><br/>“Anyway, I consider this... A poem, sort of... It's more than fine if it isn't exactly to standard. Uhmn, here we go... This is called <em>retrospective nara.</em>” <br/><br/></p><p>“ <em> Finally, cherished emptiness, <br/>you have stated your terrible price.<br/>Consider the deed you brought with you bought <br/>from what's left of me, and we shall both <br/>be repaid in full. </em></p><p>
  <em> Isolation, your paper walls <br/>cannot separate this awful sound. <br/>Like a chime, a bell at midnight<br/>your hungry ghost follows <br/>at a respectable distance. <br/>What are you waiting for? <br/>Did the temptation finally strike you <br/>to take from me <br/>my last quiet dignity? <br/><br/>But you have mistaken me for something else. <br/><br/>My ten-thousand leaves will cut away all lies <br/>that lie beneath <br/>your boughs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And if you plant a cypress forest <br/>then I shall consume it in my fire <br/>because my hunger <br/></em>
  <em>lasts for lifetimes<br/>and <br/><br/>nothing is here <br/>for you. <br/><br/>This allegory is steel <br/>a story about a knife <br/>who, in the span of a hundred years <br/></em>
  <em>dreamt herself<br/>a girl. <br/><br/>Stop pursuing what cannot be won <br/>and leave me to my tomb. <br/>You cannot love fire, lightning, <br/>| or anything that devours <br/>like I would <br/>devour <br/>you. <br/><br/>But...” </em>
</p><p>Her voice cracked, her normal husky whisper broken – for but a moment.</p><p>“ <em> Suppose you hate yourself so much <br/>to lock yourself in tombs <br/>housing monsters built from memories <br/></em><em>then I suppose I can't hate you.</em></p><p><em>And if I hated anything, it would be<br/></em><em>what brought you here.<br/></em><em>I am </em> <em><strong>fire;</strong></em> <em> I cannot control<br/>myself. <br/><br/>But I want to burn away all the things <br/>that build up monoliths and tombs <br/>for yours is yet unbuilt and I do not wish to it filled. <br/><br/>If you use my light to see <br/>or hold it as a comfort, in the dark<br/>this fire could not complain <br/>even if she were <br/></em><em>mistaken.</em> ”</p><p>Deflating, Yuri pulled her jacket up, though it held no hood. People were happy, and that was fine. There was a sound, applause, and it was fine. She hated herself; she hated them. She hated the affirmation of life, and wanted to run away. <br/><br/>She found discipline, and held it close. <br/><br/>Inhale; exhale. <br/><br/>“Whawas that, like, was that Manyoushou?!” <br/><br/>“You... You noticed, huh?” <br/><br/>“I'm pretty sure my grades are <em>still</em> better than <em>yours,</em> Ranmaru.” <br/><br/>Natsuki's prideful jab at her own chest helped her remember how to breath; it was so difficult, sometimes, and yet... <br/><br/>It actually didn't feel too hard, right now. <br/>You didn't even <em>have</em> to think about it, did you? <br/>Was it really... That simple... <br/><br/>“Hey.” <br/><br/>Raising his hand like he was at a school presentation, that guy was staring at her. <br/>And the last thing, she needed, right now... <br/><br/>“You're really <em>angry</em> aren't you.” <br/><br/>A statement; not a question. <br/>Her eyes hurt; everything felt a little... Woozy. <br/>Probably the cheap wine. <br/><br/>She licked her lips. <br/>Knew what he would say next, one of two things; binary. <br/>'Oh, that's fucked up. You need to take care of yourself, are you okay?'</p><p>
  <em>OR</em>
</p><p>'Stop complaining, in fact, stop talking.' <br/><br/>“... Never knew somebody that angry before. Huh.” <br/><br/>And he was clearly concerned, and had lot on his mind but – he didn't push it. <br/>Didn't tell her what to do, or give her advice, or tell her anything at all. <br/>... Was this, unusual... <br/><br/>Or had she just grown accustomed... <br/><br/>“What the hell, dumbass, I'm angry all the time!” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, cheerfully, still looking quite proud. <br/>... Which was fine. <br/>Maybe Yuri was a little proud of her, <em>too.</em> <br/><br/>“Ehehe, I'm... Pretty angry myself, actually...” <br/><br/>“No way, I refuse to believe that.” <br/><br/>“Fair. It's a hidden kind of anger, I guess.” <br/><br/>Sayori shrugged, peacefully, and stirred the fire with her foot. <br/>... Well, nothing was perfect. And they'd known each other for a long time, so – perhaps this was their way of communicating. <br/><br/>Nevertheless, Yuri decided she'd have to keep a watch on him. <br/>Just because; for no reason.</p><p>“Well, there's at least one of us who never knows anything but pure love, and that's me!~ Yuri, that was interesting, but I don't really think you could call it a poem, at all. It sounded more like a <em>dedication</em> if you ask me!” <br/><br/>“And dedications can't be poems..?” <br/><br/>Said Yuri slyly, memories of old fights of her own having rekindled themselves in her spirit. Monika winked and stretched her hands out in front of her. <br/><br/>“They sure can, but if I heard a 'poem' like that... Well, hmn, would I be flattered, or irritated.” <br/><br/>“Neither, 'cause nobody'd write a poem like that for you.” <br/><br/>Interjected Natsuki with a <em>terribly </em>smug smile, and – the two of them chased each other very slowly around the campfire. <br/><br/><em> This was normal. <br/>Normal friends could enjoy this, every once in awhile. <br/>And it did not have to come at some kind of cost. <br/><br/></em> “I'll go, just to get it over with.” <br/><br/>He mumbled, and his poem wasn't bad; this one was a little more tragic, though, and appealed to her sensibilities – well, the old sensibilities she'd pretended to have, or put on display. <br/>That being said... It wasn't really directed at <em>her,</em> was it..?</p><p>“Guess that just leaves me. I'd like to wait a bit, if you don't mind!” <br/><br/>Nobody did; the night was peaceful, and good. <br/>Sayori lead them into a formation of five, five heads placed each against each other on a grass-clad hill, staring into the summer night above. <br/><br/>“The stars are so pretty, huh? There's... Ursa minor, wow...” <br/><br/>“What d'ya think'd happen if we got lost up here, Sayori? Just – the five of us, having to survive in the wilderness...” <br/><br/>Natsuki mumbled, and it was unclear whether she dreaded or – craved the idea. <br/><br/>Sayori laughed, terribly quietly. <br/><br/>“Gosh, what a strange question! I think we'd be okay. Well, it'd be rough, uhmn... You, mister, you'd have to go get food...” <br/><br/>“Why me?! I hate physical labour! The only hunting I've ever done was in Hunting Simulator 2054!”</p><p>“Fine, fine, I'll... Gather berries, uhmn, Natsuki can build a house, Monika... You'll rally us all forward when we're feeling blue... Yuri, oh, no... Yuri, I dunno what'll happen to you!” <br/><br/>Tears were welling up in Sayori's eyes, and Yuri was simultaneously <em>miffed</em> and <em>pleased</em> at the image Sayori had of her, one she hated to dispel, but... <br/><br/>“Uhmn, I could... Probably, you know... Hunt a bear, or something, if we needed to...”</p><p>Silence. <br/>Dead silence. <br/>The silence of the grave. <br/><br/>“NO.” <br/><br/>That was Natsuki, then. That single word, echoing in disbelief, filtered through the night air. <br/>Monika was howling with laughter, like she'd broken a switch and just couldn't quite stop it. <br/>Sayori – was saying nothing. <br/><br/>“I, I think you'll find you mean <em>yes.</em> I... My grandfather used to take me out hunting, so. If we – raided an armoury, or something... I could, probably...” <br/><br/>“That's not what I want you to have to do, though.” <br/><br/>Sayori whispered, and Yuri wasn't sure why it <em>hurt.</em> <br/><br/>“But I – I guess I'm proud that you <em>can.</em> Ehehe, does that mean... You've also played Hunting Simulator, 2054...” <br/><br/>“No, wait, Sayori. Can you really see this... Weird, gloomy girl... Dressed in camo and eyeblack, on a hill, controlling her... Breathing...” <br/><br/>Suddenly, Natsuki went quiet. <br/>They were all thinking about it, weren't they? <br/>It was Yuri's turn to laugh, a little bit self-satisfied.<br/><br/>“That's <em>right.</em> Just point the trigger, and <em>pow.</em> I am the night...” <br/><br/>Now, everybody was laughing. <br/>Perhaps in the past, she wouldn't have felt happy about that, because it had been a – secret, cherished memory. Something only she had known. <br/><br/>This was <em>today;</em> and she could see how it had built flaws within her, and strengths, too. <br/><br/>Sharing it was not a weakness, but a strength. <br/><br/>“All righty then. I'll go! Actually, this is a salvaged work. I saved it! It's called... <em>Sometimes!</em>”</p><p>“ <em> A year ago <br/>I fell into a well,<br/>a deep well filled with warm water. <br/>Fishes swam in the well <br/>and some of them had multicoloured scales! <br/>I swam with them, as friends. <br/><br/>Friends don't always know what to say, though.<br/>Neither do fishes! <br/>Which is okay, because I don't know, either. <br/>And when I went for air, <br/>I also went to go think. <br/><br/>One of my friends was a fish. <br/>She swam, swam, swam, but she'd bitten a hook.<br/>I pulled it from her mouth. Pop! <br/>That hook might have been meant for me. <br/></em><em>Maybe the world would be better, without hooks.<br/>Now, I hoped she could swim <br/>and not paint the water red. </em></p><p>
  <em>Today, I didn't spend any time with fishes.<br/></em>
  <em>And I guess the well in the yard might have been<br/></em>
  <em>in my head, instead<br/></em>
  <em>but there was a secret I figured out<br/>from the time spent down there. <br/><br/>Sometimes <br/>fishes can weigh you down <br/>and make you feel like you'll drown<br/>beneath their waves. <br/>But even when friends do the same <br/>they're swimming, too. <br/>I can't help them all the time <br/>or make their wishes true. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And just like a new dawn can shine <br/>reflected in fishy scales <br/>sometimes when I'm feeling at my worst<br/>friends are the wind beneath my sails. <br/>I don't really like to swim! <br/>And actually, I'm scared of fish... <br/><br/>But sometimes, even when your thoughts are blue <br/>and water warm <br/>it's a friend that'll grant your wish.” </em>
</p><p>“Sayori, that wasn't the poem you'd planned...” <br/><br/>Her friend mumbled, bemused. <br/>Sayori smiled, just a little, and pretended to place her knuckled against her forehead. <br/><br/>“Sorry... I guess I must have swapped it out at the last minute, or something. Ehehe, but that's fine, right? I'm still really happy with how it went!” <br/><br/>“You, you... Ditzy genius...” <br/><br/>“Yay, I'm glad you think I'm a genius! And maybe ditzy, too...” <br/><br/>He kept mumbling half-hearted incriminations, but there was no venom there. <br/>The warmth of the distant fire reminded Yuri of something, and she wanted to walk into it, and just wait – to see what might happen. <br/><br/>Or she told herself that. <br/>Told herself she had to believe it. <br/><br/>Right now, perhaps, she didn't.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As I wrote this, I decided I do not dislike the MC.</p><p>Nobody, even a man without a face, deserves unhappiness.<br/>Yuri didn't notice his poem, but that doesn't mean it wasn't worthwhile.</p><p>Here, formatted somewhat poorly: <i>semaphore</i></p><p>
  <i>Captain!<br/>Stop going down with the ship<br/>because I think you're sinking fast<br/>and these tidestruck waters have got us dear;<br/>this will be our last.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I'm yelling at you in patterned flags, <br/>codices and semaphore.<br/>but it seems the sounds can't reach your ears<br/>or the water's filled them up.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A first mate is a useless tool<br/>you can silence with a smile<br/>but I'm here with you<br/>until the end<br/>so don't give me your denial.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>If we sink, then let's sink as one<br/>but my hand is outstretched<br/>now;<br/>just take it, if I can do nothing more<br/>and we'll ride this out<br/>together.</i>
</p><p>Also.</p><p>....</p><p>Formatting destroyed this chapter. I have fought back as hard as I could.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. V. chrysanthemums</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Master Kung.”</p><p>“Lame, boring, hardly a gentleman, and entirely overrated.” <br/><br/>“Aristotle.” <br/><br/>“That gross guy? He's gross! Oh, wait, I'm sorry, it's okay 'cause he talks pretty.” <br/><br/>Natsuki blew a strand of hair out of her face, and Yuri resisted the desire to – push it back, to tease her, a bit. <br/><br/>A momentary wander had taken them to a small scenic vista overlooking the town. Barely a hill itself, it was littered with the kind of well-kept detritus you found in the country. Dying grills next to well-maintained rain shelters, footpaths that had seen heavy traffic and carparks that had seen... Action, of one kind or another... <br/><br/>“Fine! Master Chuang, then!” <br/><br/>“He loved butterflies way too much for my taste. Guys like that, you never know what they start talking about, y'know, if you give them a chance...” <br/><br/>“Do you have <em>any</em> philosopher you can claim to like, or are you truly just... An immoral barbarian...” <br/><br/>“I like Kierkegaard.” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, quietly, and they let the wind speak, instead. <br/><br/>'Tomorrow' had turned into the next day, and they hadn't discussed it. Privately, Yuri was grateful and impressed by Natsuki.. Not forcing the issue, nor shutting herself off. She was still – clearly watching, from time to time. <br/><br/>But on the other hand, <em>she</em> didn't seem to know what to say, either. <br/><br/>Having decided it might be because of a lack of proper education, or – or having decided to play with her, a bit more, she'd hoped this conversation might... Lead into one thing or another, or... <br/>Even if it didn't, it might be <em>fun.</em> <br/><br/>And that much? <br/>That much, it'd been. Mostly.</p><p>“My father... Likes Kierkegaard.” <br/><br/>“Oh, boy, I'm <em>so</em> pumped to be compared to your old man!” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, smiling broadly, eyes shut. <br/>And they were shut because she <em>clearly</em> had a lot of thoughts entirely her own, which weren't Yuri's to comb through... Not yet, at least. <br/><br/>“Do you, uh... You still get on with your old man?” <br/><br/>“... I have no idea...” <br/><br/>She whispered, and bundled herself up against the wind.</p><p>Could you say that a relationship predicated on missed calls and answering machines was a relationship? Her memories of her father were mostly memories, backed up by only the faintest hint of something that might have once been called <em>real.</em> <br/><br/>“... I do love him, though. And – my mother, too.” <br/><br/>“Love is fucky like that, huh.” <br/><br/>Maybe it shouldn't feel good to laugh. <br/>She'd been thinking about that, a lot. Rather a lot. <br/>Laughter was something human, something that humans did. <br/>By laughing, she was allowing herself to lose control; and if she lost too much of it... <br/><br/>“Sorry, Yuri. I guess I'm not really a philosophiser. I mean. You do you, but – why do you have to tie up your morals to old dead guys? Is it really that important?” <br/><br/>“It isn't important at <em>all.</em> I'm just clinging to things.” <br/><br/>As if to demonstrate a point, she placed her hands against the railings, invisible save for where her fingers peeked out from a long beige coat. <br/><br/>“Bull. You really like it when you talk about – dead dudes. I'd bee worried about you, if, y'know, it wasn't you.” <br/><br/>“Maybe I just like tombs.” <br/><br/>She smiled, and perhaps it was a wicked smile. <br/><br/>Natsuki smiled back – and perhaps <em>she</em> was more wicked <em>still.</em> <br/><br/>“Let me know when I need to bury you, then. Dumbass. Dummy. Moron.” <br/><br/>“You can't just call a person such <em>terrible</em> things and have it be true... Idiot.” <br/><br/>“'Cuz they aren't true, but now I've got your attention, so I win!” <br/><br/>“And what on <em>earth</em> have you won, Natsuki?” <br/><br/>“A single smile!”</p><p>... <br/><br/>Natsuki was so happy as she said that, but – hmn.</p><p><em> You smile all the time, around Natsuki. <br/>Sometimes, they're rather ugly smiles, like you. <br/>Other times, you must mean them. You don't regret them. <br/>You think about hiding them, less. <br/>What does this mean? <br/>Can I – trust myself, here... </em> <br/><br/>“Earth to Yuri... You okay?” <br/><br/>“Thinking about boxing.” <br/><br/>“Uh.” <br/><br/>“Sorry! I mean – I want to get stronger. And earlier, I'd... Thought of sport that I could actually do, and – there isn't much, ahaha... I'm afraid my days of freedom are long behind me – “ <br/><br/>“Don't become one of those people who – who lives off of the past, okay? Who views it as the... The best days of their life, or something. I – I really would hate you, if you felt like that.” <br/><br/>“...” <br/><br/>Normally, she would've snapped back that it was impossible. <br/>Perhaps said something <em>truly</em> ugly, something that would've put up another soft barrier, between the two of them. Normally. <br/><br/>“I... Will try, not to...” <br/><br/>She whispered, uncertain as to why a soft wind had brought such chills. <br/><br/>Natsuki pouted, slightly, pursed her lips and looked away. And Yuri felt <em>angry!</em> Wasn't that enough, that she was <em>trying?</em> Did she have to just – get on her knees and promise things, willynilly?! To some – some slip of a girl, uuuUUuuuuUuuUUuu – <br/><br/>“Hehe, I win again!” <br/><br/>“This isn't a – a fucking contest, you... Crustacean... Baby...”</p><p>“Glad you're not thinking of basketball, because that's what we call a shoot and a miss! You're losing your touch, Yuri! Guess I'm just <em>that</em> good! Makes me wanna take bite out of something sweet, hmmmmn, you wanna go get ice cream – “ <br/><br/>“... I wouldn't mind.” <br/><br/>She grumbled, chewing on hair and appending something or other about a certain shrimp to the end of that particular sentence.</p><p>“Uh, wait a sec, though. Two things.” <br/><br/>Natsuki held up two fingers, looking determined – then ran to the small, surprisingly <em>un</em>cute grey bag she'd thrown hastily over the scooter's side. She rummaged around in it for a half-second, and removed a small, plainly wrapped package. <br/><br/>“This is for you. Since you're always treating me!” <br/><br/>“I – I... For me...” <br/><br/><em> She tried to remember the last time she'd received a package. A parcel. A gift. <br/>Not for some – circumstance, either. And she could think of times; Sayori loved to give gifts, but she gave them very freely. Once, Monika had given her something from a trip to some or another foreign country; and she'd wanted to treasure it, but it had disappeared one night, and she'd never known where it went. <br/><br/>But she couldn't, for the life of her, think of a time that someone had just... Given her a gift. <br/>Without expectation, or pressure. <br/><br/>The wrapping was plain. <br/>It was neither elegant, nor handsome. <br/>Very few people would have looked at it, and expected much. <br/><br/>She handled it as if it were made of glass, and the most precious thing imaginable. <br/><br/></em> “I <em>see.</em> Uhmn... Should I...” <br/><br/>“Wait 'til you get home! It'll be a surprise!” <br/><br/>Neither had she thought of the act of <em>giving</em> a gift as bringing so much joy. Natsuki's face <em>shone,</em> and if she were a moth she would've... Flown into it, until she'd burned herself to cinders. <br/><br/>“Can I... Do you mind if I, in return...” <br/><br/>“Yu-<em>ri.</em> Geeze, nobody needs to ask if they can give a gift in return, just – “ <br/><br/>“But I <em>do.</em>” <br/><br/>She whispered, and she hadn't realised that she was holding it to her chest as softly as if it were the egg of a delicate bird. <br/><br/>Natsuki stared at her, perhaps stared at her as if they'd just met for the first time. <br/>The war of emotions on her face made it clear she was about to ask, and Yuri's heart pounded, in that terrible mixture of fear and anticipation and – <br/><br/>“BEEEP BEEEEP! YoooOoooooohooo!~” <br/><br/><em> monika. <br/>monika you leprous canker. <br/>monika, devil's kith and kin, with eyes as a dying star. <br/><br/></em> Having pulled into the parking lot, the motorcyclist hopped off of her motorcycle. <br/>To be clear, Yuri noted, it was not a scooter. (And – very likely not environmentally friendly, not that the <em>Genmei</em> was particularly... Conscientous, either...) <br/><br/>She had a racer's helmet held neatly under her shoulder and, as ever, looked terribly and terrifyingly charming, with a smile that had woven the love of so many around a finger, and then forgotten it was present – even as all the oxygen in the room got cut off, strangled, and run red. <br/><br/>“Monika. Y'don't, y'know, need to say 'beep beep.' That's what a horn's for.” <br/><br/>Natsuki... <br/>Took issue with something entirely different, it seemed. <br/>Hrmn... <br/><br/>“Sure, but it's more fun this way?~ I'm surprised to see the two of you up here, but it gives me a chance to kill two birds with a single stone. Not that either of you are birds, of course!” <br/><br/>“Mmn. Should we be worried...” <br/><br/>Yuri said, with a slight and razor-thin smile; and all three of them burst into laughter, Monika laughing the hardest. <br/><br/>“Gosh, I hope not. Well, maybe, I'm about to ask for a teensy-weensy-itsy-bitsy-kinda-big-actually favour. See, you know how the cultural fair was a bust?” <br/><br/>Three groans, lost to a slight breeze. <br/><br/>“I'm not saying that was the actual reason I ditched with this scarecrow, but it might've been the reason.” <br/><br/>“As to me, I tried. Monika, there's only – so much you can do to make the <em>plebeians </em>care about literature! They – they trampled Sayori's literature twister setup! We should've... Punished them...” <br/><br/>Yuri's feral growl might have raised an eyebrow or two, elsewhere. But it was apparently par for a course amongst her friends, and <em>that</em> felt peculiar, too. <br/><br/>Monika 'hmned' and stared into the sky, emerald eyes unblinking. <br/><br/>“I don't really blame them. We left a lot undone, a lot unfinished, a lot unsaid. It's only natural to lose interest in something that doesn't capture your interest. And I guess most people only took a superficial interest in literature! But, we're to blame for that, aren't we? Oh, no!~”</p><p>Privately, Yuri didn't agree. <br/>Nobody 'took an interest' in literature. It was like that man had said; characters drew an audience in, but were unimportant to the reader. The story held their interest, but only for a moment. <br/><br/>And then, it was as if it had not happened at all. <br/><br/>... Humanity, was... <br/><br/>“Simmer down, Yuri. I don't know what you're thinking, but I think I don't like what you're thinking.” <br/><br/>“You have... No idea, so don't judge me... Shorty...” <br/><br/>“oOOooO, or what? You gonna pick a fight? I'm ready, c'mon, let's go! I'll lay you out, get ice cream with Monika on her <em>cool motorbike,</em> and be home in time for supper!” <br/><br/>“Monika, will you excuse us while I beat the stuffing out of this... Ragamuffin, it's a pun, because she's a... Muffin...” <br/><br/>“No can do, ladies. So, listen up, everyone!” <br/><br/>Sighing, they put aside their (incredibly serious) fight, and turned towards Monika, who was leaning against her (admittedly cool) motorbike, looking thoughtful. <br/><br/>“The culture fair was a bust, but what if the end-of-year festival <em>wasn't?</em> I know it's kind of... Depressing to have a festival for everybody going off and doing their own thing, but I was thinking, 'hey!' maybe this is our chance!~” <br/><br/>“... I don't think that's depressing at all, y'know. I mean – we're going to be graduating, one way or another. Making some memories, maybe giving some people we don't know a reason to keep the lights on...” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, quietly – looking lost in thought. <br/><br/>“And as for me, I don't hate it either. I didn't even know if I'd – make it to graduation, so... I'd like to smile with you all, when that time comes.” <br/><br/>“Yay, that went so much easier than I'd thought! You're both <em>so</em> accommodating!” <br/><br/>Monika's not-entirely-pleasant smile said 'danger,' but her cheery tone said 'righteous' and Yuri wasn't sure which was which, or whether Monika knew which was which. <br/><br/>Perhaps it didn't matter. <br/><br/>“But I'll be expecting the both of you to carry your weight and not get distracted by anything!~” <br/><br/>“Count on me to make this thing sparkle! I'm gonna bake my ass off!” <br/><br/>Natsuki's determination was evident in every word she said, even if Yuri wanted to (gently) suggest a different phrasing. <br/><br/>“... I'll do my best, too. I don't think the atmosphere was, mmn, popular enough, last time. I tried to make it very – cosy, but what we thought of cosy isn't the same as... Everybody else, is it?” <br/><br/>Three young women stared over the railing. <br/>She wondered if Kierkegaard would have had something to say about it, or if Natsuki was thinking the same thing. <br/><br/>“You use popular like it's an insult, Yuri. Why, I think that if you <em>really</em> love literature, you wouldn't mind if we attracted more people!~” <br/><br/>“Oh, I don't mind that. Even then, I didn't. But at the same time...” <br/><br/><em> each of them had to have felt it. <br/>that quiet, terrible, innocent desire. </em></p><p>
  <em>here is our home; a sanctuary. a hidden place.</em>
</p><p><em> it's ours. <br/><br/>let it remain ours, and be known to no-one else. <br/><br/></em> “... At the same time... Perhaps the whale song was too much.” <br/><br/>“Bahahahaha, so <em>that's</em> what that was! I thought it was some kind of psychological experiment to see how frustrated I could get with the PA! Whales, huh, they sound that weird...” <br/><br/>“It's supposed to relax people.” <br/><br/>Yuri shrugged; hopefully it made it clear that <em>she</em> wasn't one of those people, herself. <br/>She pushed her bangs back – and they fell down before she'd even finished. <br/>Grumbling, she wanted to continue, but – <br/><br/>Monika was staring at her with a... <br/>Surprisingly impish smile? <br/>Did she have... Some kind of... Ulterior plan, or motive, here... <br/><br/>“Our Yuri sure does care a lot about ambience. But, you know, it seems like you focus a lot on music? Just why is that, Yuri?~” <br/><br/>“W, well... Hmn, nobody has ever asked me so bluntly! I'll begin. Music is a universal language, you know and – and it's easy for people to relate to something even if they've never known about the composer. Furthermore, I love flowers, but I can't do ikebana. Most scents aren't hypoallergenic, so I'm limited to candles, rather than incense.” <br/><br/>She caught sight of the expression Monika and Natsuki shared, and felt a twinge of – something. <br/>... Jealousy? Confusion? Almost certainly confusion. <br/>What, did they... <br/><br/>“All I've got that's – universal, I suppose, is music. Only music but music.” <br/><br/>Her smile wavered, and she wanted to leave it that. <br/>Almost. <br/><br/>“I've – spent a lot of time just listening to music, myself, so... I like to think it's something I can share, even if the rest of me is – difficult, sometimes.” <br/><br/>“Could be...” <br/><br/>Said Natsuki, <em>terribly</em> enigmatically, and Yuri realised it was <em>curiousity.</em> <br/>She HAD to know, and they weren't going to tell her? <br/>O, o, OooOoooOooooOooo! <br/><br/>“On that note!~ I'm off. Cool motorcycle, huh? You can praise him later, by the way, I'm thinking Shoumu...” <br/><br/><em>Monika</em> ... <br/>Right now, something about her was really... Getting under Yuri's skin... <br/><br/>But before Yuri had found a chance to pick a bone with Monika and accuse her of a kind of metaphorical undermining, Monika had leapt (a bit clumsily, considering all her other talents) onto the bicycle (probably not named Shoumu), and – slowly sped off, because she at least followed the rules of the road. <br/><br/>“She's a whirlwind, our club leader.” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, and there was a kind of poetry in what she said, and didn't say. <br/><br/>“... Grrr.” <br/><br/>Yuri added, thoughtfully, and Natsuki continued to laugh at her the entire way down the hill. Yuri pushed, rather than road the scooter; perhaps because they were only going to go to a nearby stall for icecream, but... <br/><br/>“Uh, Yuri.” <br/><br/>She froze in place. <br/><br/>And she thought strongly about the memory of an animal, trembling in the woodlands. How it had shivered, knowing what was about to come; how it had looked at her, with unknowable eyes, unable to speak in human tongue. <br/><br/>Finally, she understood perfectly what it had been trying to say. <br/><br/>Natsuki's eyes were shut. <br/>She very much wanted Natsuki to grin, and break into an argument. To tease her about – anything. <br/><br/><em> Absolutely nothing is off-limits. Make fun of my height, my weight, my lack of weight, my lack of skill, my lack of intelligence, my bad habits, my good habits, the way I bite my hair, the way my teeth look, the way I can't look away. Anything. Don't say a word. Let us return to silence, without making a sound. <br/><br/></em> “So... I know it's probably... Not a good time, still...” <br/><br/>Her fingers found her wrists. She wanted to roll her sleeves back, and scratch something. Like an animal might, when licking its own wounds. <br/><br/>But she did not. <br/><br/>“A, and anyway. I suck at knowing when it's a good time to talk! About anything! I stink at a lot of things, and you can say that. You know, right? I mean, ahaha, Natsuki, just... Talking to fill a void, I guess.” <br/><br/>Pink eyes, like the rosy hint of dawn, dared to look at hers. <br/><br/><em> she couldn't blink <br/>and couldn't breath <br/>and didn't want to look back <br/>or free the feelings burning every part of her <br/>and <br/><br/></em> “I like you. Which means, I... I, I, I like the way you look. Not – like me, I mean, y'know...” <br/><br/>Her fingers encircled her wrist like a claw, clenched down until the white skin of her hand might as well have been a red blotch. <br/><br/>“You. Are.” <br/><br/>The only two words she could manage. <br/>Because if she said anymore, this, would, be... <br/><br/>Natsuki was silent, for a brief and merciful moment. <br/>But she wasn't pawing at herself, like a rabid dog, like an animal that didn't serve a purpose, like – a stray cat, someone had left to die, alone in the woods. <br/><br/>“So – what you're doing, I don't like it.” <br/><br/>... <em>huh?</em> <br/><br/>Wind blew the first fallen leaves past them, and she wondered if she could blow away, too. But that hadn't been – part of what she'd planned, built up in her head, and Natsuki? Was angry? <br/><br/>“Y, yeah. I don't like – what you're doing to yourself, okay?! <em>Dumbass!</em> There's nothing cute about – being coy and... Self-effacing, and... You're just a mess. You're a gross mess. I don't know why, I'm even...” <br/><br/>“Hey... Please don't cry...” <br/><br/>“Ib not. Crying...” <br/><br/>This wasn't anything like she'd imagined. <br/>She felt even more lost, as she knelt down and – wiped away at fresh tears, tears that Natsuki was desperately trying to hide, and pretend didn't exist – had never existed. <br/><br/>“Do you think I'm just – a kid...” <br/><br/><em> her voice, hurt. <br/>everything, hurt. <br/>she didn't have the capacity to deal with this. <br/>what was she supposed to say? she could barely understand herself, didn't have a drop of empathy in her, it was natsuki's fault for being this way, for making her feel this way, and – </em> <br/><br/>“... I have never felt anything less. You are... The <em>only</em> person capable of matching my... Endless intelligence, and I am ashamed and humbled to have caused you such hurt.” <br/><br/>She bowed low, feeling that was surely how it must be done; and didn't understand why Natsuki was laughing through her teas, but... <br/>Fine. It was fine if they didn't get each other, and never would. <br/><br/>“You're such... A dub... Yuri, you aren't endlessly intelligent.” <br/><br/>“Hmph.” <br/><br/>“'Cause you're bright enough to see things, and ignore what's right in front of you. I mean, I knew it'd boil down to this, and I still... I'm the dumb one, huh? H, hahaha, hah...” <br/><br/>“I know that.” <br/><br/><em>please, no.</em></p><p><em> just keep it in. <br/>don't be – you, don't – <br/><br/></em> “<em>Obviously,</em> I know that, you stupid sow. Anyone who – thinks like I do is just aware of how intelligent they aren't, how much they don't see. And, hmn, it's almost as if I can't <em>stop</em> thinking about that, isn't it? Would you like to try driving it in, next time?” <br/><br/>Natsuki winced, but did not look away. <br/>Months ago, that would have been worse. <br/>Right now – she felt, a little bit, of all of it, subside. <br/><br/>“... You have, very... Your eyes are very...” <br/><br/>Without hesitation she knelt down, and placed her hand against Natsuki's cheek. It was strange, when she couldn't touch somebody, she forgot how skin felt. Real, with the blood coursing through it. <br/>Natsuki was – soft, too... <br/><br/>“I, if you're gonna... Lead me on, like this, let go.” <br/><br/>She didn't. <br/>She inhaled; she couldn't bring herself to exhale. <br/>And it came out, all at once. <br/>Like it always did. <br/><br/>“Every day I look at you, I wonder if I'm going to end up viewing you the same way I view everyone else. I wonder if I'm just going to see you for how beautiful I find you, and want to put you on a string and carry you around with me forever, until I forget what I even liked about you. I don't want to steal glances at you endlessly, and value you for only... One... Only one, thing...” <br/><br/>“Yuri – are we, still... Talking, about... You...”</p><p>And she wished it would rain. <br/><br/>When she managed to right herself, it was thanks to that one thing; discipline. It was an ugly fix, but the only reason she could bring herself to look into the eyes of someone who cared so very much for her, with that terrible emotion called <em>pity.</em> <br/><br/>It disgusted her. <br/>She didn't want pity. She hadn't <em>allowed</em> it. <br/>... She truly didn't, at all... <br/><br/>“Do you want me to debase myself further?” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered. <br/><br/>“Because I can do that. I don't feel shame, Natsuki. I just – want to, to not feel, anything...” <br/><br/>“Can't you try? Because I – <em>because I feel an awful lot for you!</em>” <br/><br/>She was <em>shouting,</em> and the birds circling on lazy thermals overhead scattered, unwilling to hear the sound. If she had wings, if she could swim, if she had any way of escape, she could have fled, too. <br/>But... <br/><br/>(A terrible, horrible word, circling in her throat like she circled the drain.) <br/><br/>“You... Truly... Do, don't you...” <br/><br/>Natsuki turned away. <br/>She wasn't blushing; maybe you couldn't blush, when you were that honest. Maybe honesty was a kind of evil spell, that – forced you debase yourself, even if you had a sense of shame. Weren't an ugly, grotesque... <br/><br/>Yuri swallowed. <br/>Shut her eyes. <br/>Nobody could guide her, from here. It would be a mistake. She'd ruin something, somebody else. <br/><br/>A single step can feel like an eternity, when it's between you and another person. The distance can make even a short shadow feel like a mountain, and a mountain feel like an unbreachable distance, lost to the horizon. <br/><br/>She crossed the boundary that had always seemed so far, and embraced Natsuki tightly, from behind.</p><p>Moments passed, and this time it might have been an hour. Neither of them said anything; she didn't know if she <em>could</em> speak, if she had ever truly been able to speak, or if she had just imitated the words she'd heard in others. <br/><br/>Natsuki did turn around, though. <br/>... <br/><br/>Her embrace was very soft, and very frightened. <br/><br/>And her hair smelled a little bit like waterfalls, or what she'd imagined waterfalls to smell like, when she'd imagined running away into the wilderness, and living like a warrior-poet, entirely unknown to anyone but nature.</p><p>“Please don't let go.” <br/><br/>Natsuki whispered, and Yuri tightened her grip. She – almost wanted to lift Natsuki up, and take her somewhere. Because even if this was a terrible mistake. <br/><br/>“You really do mean it, huh?” <br/><br/>“I'm not... Entirely, stupid.” <br/><br/>“Guess not.” <br/><br/>Yuri shut her eyes. <br/>Tried to focus on anything but the way her heart was pounding. <br/>It was a <em>disease.</em> <br/><br/>“Somehow, in my head, I – I thought this'd be...” <br/><br/>“I warned you. And now I see you like this, Natsuki. I'm so, so, so, so, sorry.. I couldn't... I can't, ever, control...” <br/><br/>Her weakness traced the paths she'd closed off to it, and even those pathways couldn't save her, now. She could feel how soft and light Natsuki was; how warm her breath felt against her own cheek. Even her tears were soft, crystalline. <br/><br/><em> She wanted <br/><strong>all </strong> </em></p><p><em>of her.</em> <br/><br/>“That's okay.”<br/><br/>It was barely a whisper. <br/>Less then a whisper. <br/>And yet it roared, with a determination she had never heard. <br/><br/>“What...” <br/><br/>“That's <em>okay!</em> You, you monstrous idiot! Fine, I'll... Just tire you out, or whatever. Until you... Don't feel so sorry, all the time! Because seeing you scared hurts, too, and I can deal with it, but I don't <em>want</em> it! And I mean it's fine, since, obviously, I... Want to be closer to you, too...” <br/><br/>They parted ways not long after. <br/>Exhaustedly. <br/>Lost in thought. <br/><br/>Yuri had tried to muster the energy and courage to say something, to explain that this was wrong and a mistake, that her uncontrollable hunger was a lust that, uncontained, destroyed everything. Something that had been built up by terrible things, but she was more terrible, still. <br/><br/>And therefore, Natsuki needed to leave. <br/>It was right, since all she could feel was lust; that was not the love she wished to give to anyone. <br/>Not a pure love, like she'd imagined, or even a kind of fractured love, like she'd... She'd accepted, perhaps even dreamed of. <br/><br/>The idea of loving ugly things was – not alien to her. <br/>She did. <br/>Very much so. <br/><br/>But, that wasn't all she loved, either. <br/><br/>Home was safe; there were locks and chains and dust and emptiness. She could purge all the toxins building up inside of her by ignoring them, by ignoring everything. It was a hundred times more harmful then – the rest of it, but who cared. She didn't, couldn't. <br/><br/>Something jostled her pocket; a parcel. <br/><br/>Unwrapping it slowly, she nearly fumbled the jewel case, one that had clearly been used for many, <em>many</em> CD-roms before this particular one. <br/><br/>The cover, which had been printed rather than bought, was a sticker. The front was some kind of stylised shrine maiden-turn-disk-jockey. Although it reminded her a bit of the anime Natsuki liked so much, the style was... Different, with sharper edges and thicker lines than she was used to. <br/><br/>It felt like something she might – read, a bit, if Natsuki had ever discussed it. <br/><br/>And the back sticker was a clumsily-made printout, with artist names and titles. She recognised none of them, assuming they were likely to be from some... <em>Doujin</em> circle, or something like that. <br/>Irritated, because it was better to feel <em>angry</em> than it was to care, she considered throwing it away. <br/><br/>... No. <br/>The thought had not crossed her mind. <br/><br/>Sighing, she fled the lower sanctum to the upper; and her room was the same as ever, insular and only less lonely in comparison. There was less dust, surely, but where there was no dust, there were ruins – of all sorts of things, some of which held no name. <br/><br/>But she had a CD-player. Once, a stupid girl had listened to all sorts of songs, there. Enka, possibly? <br/>Perhaps, <em>she thought wryly,</em> it was joke gift. Nothing but enka covers. <br/><br/>The disk played automatically. <br/>And there was no time to stop it, or run away. <br/><br/>...</p><p>
  <em> it was a solid wall of noise. everything about it was experimental, like shattering glass down the spine of her back. but where the drones and synths gave way to instruments and industrial machinery, there was something <strong>more</strong>; something <strong>beautiful.<br/><br/></strong>her fingers trembled, reached for something that wasn't there. <br/>she couldn't breath. <br/>her heart felt ruined. <br/><br/>and it didn't just destroy you. it hesitated. <br/>something electrical grew and swelled and <strong> reminded you you were alive. <br/></strong> like a <strong>breath.</strong> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>inhale.</em>
</p><p>Exhale. <br/><br/>Shaking in place, like a statue that had realised it no longer had arms or a face, Yuri tried to vocalise something, as tears ran down her cheeks. That was the first song, and only the first two were – ruinous, like that. They faded, into soft classical music. Nothing like Natsuki would normally listen to. <br/><br/>Then, the 'tape' faded to something else, cheery and anarchistic, and upbeat pop-punk, bubblegummy, obnoxiously cute, pointless... <br/><br/>Why did the air taste so thin? <br/><br/><em> ah, no <br/></em> <em><strong>no</strong></em> <em> <br/><br/>she was in </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please imagine your own mixtapes. I know entirely how I see it, but it'll be more powerful if you imagine your own. (I believe in you.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. VI. hellebore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She awoke, feeling it even within her room without windows. <br/>Sunlight. <br/><br/>Long dark hair, as dark as crushed lavender, fell around her. It had grown so long and tangled – and others had seen this as elegant? Had she – intended as much... <br/><br/>Yuri felt aware of everything, all it once. Like she'd awoken from a long and terrible dream, in a sequence of dreams. Her hand stretched towards the ceiling. She could trace every pattern there, for they were all friends... <br/><br/>In the ceiling, and in her arms. <br/><br/>She frowned. <br/>Imperceptibly. <br/>In challenge. <br/><br/>Cleaning up the house would do nothing; the dust wasn't going anywhere, and she didn't hate it. So long as her room was close-to-livable, all was fine. And maybe that'd change, some time, but for now... <br/><br/>The early dawn was spent trying to remember how it went. That proved to be a mistake after a <em>single</em> push-up nearly floored her, wheezing and failing at anything but an exaggerated collapse. The mess of hair sprawled out behind her had gotten in her way, too... <br/><br/>But that was fine. She was <em>weak.</em> That was her body, now. And – she didn't have to be. <br/><br/>She tried stretches, which she should've tried first, in the <em>first place,</em> and even they were a bridge too far... <br/><br/>And yet, she managed a few. Not a whole set of repetitions, or anything a foolish young girl might have managed. <br/><br/>But a few, all the same. <br/><br/>When she was done (and incredibly glad for stretchy leggings, even if nobody else could appreciate <em>high fashion), </em>she put one of the interchangeable prepared meals in the toaster, and faced up to herself. A caricature in the mirror stared back her, nothing like the person she felt she was. <br/><br/>Her palm met the mirror-woman's palm. <br/>It felt like glass. <br/><br/>“All right. <em>Fine.</em>” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered, determined. <br/>Her eyebrows touched, and she tried to make a plan. It really was <em>fine.</em> Even if she hated... Every part of herself, she could find parts she didn't hate as <em>much.</em> <br/><br/>One. Just one today. More tomorrow. Find <em>one.</em> <br/><br/>The scent of burning toasted pastry would've normally signalled breakfast, but she decided to let it cool a bit (it was really nothing more than preservatives and carbohydrates anyway, probably). <br/><br/>It took her some time to figure out how it was done, and the combination of terribly slow internet and her own technical ineptitude meant that the finished result was not entirely what she had in mind, but... The long, dark braid hung from her side, and she decided it would do, for now. <br/><br/>Cold and burnt, the toaster's tribute was... <br/><br/>No, she couldn't lie. <br/>It was <em>not</em> delicious. <br/><br/>She threw the ruins into the garbage, denying them even a small prayer. There was only one thing on her mind today, and she had to make it <em>perfect.</em> No. That was <em>wrong.</em> She had to make it work, and accept... If it wasn't perfect, or wrong in some way. <br/><br/>Inhale. <br/>Exhale. <br/><br/>The street shopping arcade was largely designed for strangers, tourists and rural sightseers who wanted to believe that the chipped paint and out-of-town businesses playing a game of rural life were the real, genuine article. Even still, as the nature of it changed, the shops endured and metamorphosed into something new, something resembling an actual plaza. <br/><br/>But she – had no clue what Natsuki actually <em>liked.</em> <br/>What meant as much to her as... <br/><br/>Like a phantasm, she fled from the clothestore to the bookstore to the 'general' store which had only overpriced sunglasses and postcards to it's name – as well as plush marimo mascots, something about an environmental campaign... <br/><br/>“Yuri?” <br/><br/>She jolted at her name, froze in place. <br/>Around her, normal people were interacting and talking readily, flowing in a steady stream. <br/><br/>Beyond them, Sayori was waving, standing on the tips of her toes. <br/><br/>Perhaps... <br/>This wasn't the worst scenario. <br/><br/>“Wow, I like your – hair thing. You almost make me want to have long hair!” <br/><br/>“You'd look beautiful with it.” <br/><br/>She said without thinking, but entirely sincerely. <br/>Blushing, Sayori brushed the comment off. <br/><br/>“Oh, maybe... I don't know. But I <em>do</em> know I'd never take care of it. It's such a hassle!” <br/><br/>“You're – right about that. I haven't really been, uhmn... Paying attention to my hair, either. Properly, I mean. I'm trying to be, a little...” <br/><br/>She hesitated, unsure of what she wanted to say. <br/>Thankfully, you never had to say much around Sayori. <br/>For she noticed little things, and hid them with a smile. <br/><br/>“Well, what brings you to my kingdom?” <br/><br/>“This is – your kingdom?” <br/><br/>“N, nooooo... I liked how it sounded, though. In fact, I was kind of getting a little – frazzled, trying to find something to do. Sometimes, I feel like I'm drifting through space, watching stars float by...” <br/><br/>It wouldn't have been impossible to imagine other shoppers seeing nothing of interest; a pair of two sneaker-clad feet stepping up, stumbling back; Sayori's arms held out wide for emphasis. Yuri laughing, not-quite-nervously, and smiling. <br/><br/>Without any real reason. <br/><br/>“So! I'm glad I have a Yuri to cling to, right now. What are we looking for?” <br/><br/>“Good... I mean, good question. I want to find something with <em>meaning.</em>” <br/><br/>“Oh, you're so <em>brusque</em> when you growl like that! You'll scare people off, you know! (But not me!)” <br/><br/>“Then I don't mind.” <br/><br/>Late summer sun transforms. <br/>It bloats, and grows heavy. Weighed down by an unbroken success, the sun starts to die, and from the weight of its corpse... <br/><br/>Yuri seized the sunlight in her hand, and it filtered through. <br/><br/>After all, you can't carry sunlight. <br/><br/>Sayori was laughing at her, too, like this was the funniest thing in the world. <br/>And around them, people continued to walk and mingle – they might well have been <em>invisible.</em> <br/>Had she always been so invisible, and the pressure she'd felt... <br/><br/>“I can't believe you do that, too!” <br/><br/>“Doesn't everyone?” <br/><br/>“Hmmmmm... Mmmmmmn!.. I don't know. So, meaning, huh... Meaning, meaning, meaning. I guess the things that matter most to me are things I don't treasure at the time. If I told you some of the gifts that hurt me most now, I don't know if you'd believe me.” <br/><br/>“Oh, wait – hurt you most?” <br/><br/>“Yeah. A good gift is really painful. Not like in a... Urgh. Think of it kind of like a memory. You – probably remember a few arguments you've had?” <br/><br/>She didn't answer that. <br/>Her blush answered for her. <br/>Despite her happiness, Sayori... Had thrown something of a hardball... <br/><br/>“Ehehehehe! Well, it's like that. You aren't happy when it happens, because it <em>hurts.</em> Then, when something hurts more... You look back at it, and you hold it close, 'cause the bad stuff can't change what happened.” <br/><br/>“I can't argue with that. You truly are the – smartest of us.” <br/><br/>“Save Monika!” <br/><br/>“Perhaps. I'm still angry at her...” <br/><br/>“Oooooooh, because she has the <em>coolest</em> motorbike?!” <br/><br/>“Ah, you're a traitor. Sayori... I won't forget this!” <br/><br/>Their – playful – argument was nice. And she was aware of how much more <em>free</em> she felt, and free to talk. But someone else needed to see this, too. To <em>see.</em> To <em>understand.</em> <br/><br/>“But even if it's a gift that hurts, I don't want it to be – hurtful.” <br/><br/>“I'd never be happy with a gift that was <em>designed </em>to cause pain, of course. But I'm trying to be as helpful as I can, all my energy is turned up to the max! Especially because... My default response was gonna be sachertorte...” <br/><br/>“That is... A pretty good idea...” <br/><br/>Despite it all, she could still spend time spacing out and thinking about chocolate cake with Sayori. <br/>Which was normal; like the <em>people</em> around her. <br/>And what if, that meant... <br/><br/>“Oh, but she – I mean, the person I'm thinking of – “ <br/><br/>“Could probably make an Eduard-Sacher-Natsuki-cake!”</p><p>“Er?” <br/><br/>“Weeeell, the history of the sachertorte is really complex, and full of people who've tried to add their spin to a timeless classic. And I'm pretty sure Natsuki... Could surpass ALL of them!” <br/><br/>Beyond the arcade were a few slightly higher-end storefronts. It wasn't a matter of money, but she had a very difficult time imagining Natsuki feeling happy about jewellery or a watch. Actually, the thought was kind of amusing on is own merits – <br/><br/>“I agree. She'll destroy all of them.” <br/><br/>“Destroy? Ehehe, let's not...” <br/><br/>“All of them. And stand above them, laughing with that unmistakable laugh of hers...” <br/><br/>“You-riiiii...” <br/><br/>“Fine, perhaps not like <em>that.</em> Hmn. What if I got her something practical? I think... She probably wouldn't hate pre-paid driving classes...” <br/><br/>“I don't know. She'd definitely like that, but you kind of want it to stay with her, right? I mean, not to be too generous, but maybe <em>that</em> after whatever <em>this</em> turns out to be. And she might – want to do that on her own, too...” <br/><br/>Yuri swatted at her braid, and thought. <br/><br/>Would something as simple as manga do? It was true that Natsuki didn't <em>own</em> a lot of manga, but at the same time... It felt so much less personal. Like something that faded, instead of shone. <br/><br/>(She played with her braid again, and realised with some displeasure it'd become a tic if she kept this hairstyle up. Well – it'd been fun for a day, at least.) <br/><br/>“Oh, I'm sorry I'm not helping much, Yuri... And I still didn't find what <em>I</em> was looking for...” <br/><br/>“Let's focus on that, then. I – might have an idea, anyhow.” <br/><br/>“Really?!” <br/><br/>“Yes. On both accounts.” <br/><br/>“All right! Well, I'm gonna need a few things, some hardwood, sealant, a load of catgrass, nails, maybe, hammers, I broke my only hammer a few days ago...” <br/><br/>“Mmn.” <br/><br/>Yuri's eyebrows knit against her face, and she thought for a moment more – then blanched, staring at Sayori. <br/><br/>“Wait, what exactly are you doing?” <br/><br/>“Building an enclosure, of course! All on my lonesome, too!” <br/><br/>“Are you quite... <em>sure</em> about that?” <br/><br/>“Er, mostly?” <br/><br/>“Perhaps... A gallant young lady might assist you...” <br/><br/>“You would?!” <br/><br/>“I'm feeling it. I'll try, at least. Besides, I – still need to do some thinking. I'm not entirely a stranger to this, both my father and grandfather really liked their models... So, even though it's not my field... I'll certainly do my best!” <br/><br/>The difference between doing something on your own and doing it as part of a team is almost impossible to quantify. Doing something on your own means control, but – you lose a lot of things. <br/><br/>Little jokes, that mean nothing – like the moments you hammer your own finger, and it hurts, and a young woman you utterly respect, with hair light brown that it's <em>almost</em> pink, is just laughing, and laughing... <br/><br/>Or actually testing the enclosure by crawling around it on all fours, and watching the whole damn thing collapse, revealing the baleful gaze of stuffed animals. <br/><br/>It was, Yuri decided, something she needed to do<em> more</em> of, even if she – felt like she needed a year and a half to recharge... <br/><br/>“Do you think Natsuki would still be up now?” <br/><br/>She said, without glancing at the pale orange light of summer, fading by the moment. <br/>'Hmning' to herself, Sayori lay against one of the reinforced walls – which held her weight nicely. <br/><br/>“I don't see why not. I mean, she's probably still at the library, so... I bet if you ran, you could catch her. Run over there, jump in, and say, voice husky and low... 'Sweet thing...'” <br/><br/>“Do not that is <em>not</em> how I sound.” <br/><br/>“Methinks the maiden protest-ieth too much! Anyway, I think you sound really neat. I wouldn't mind hearing something like that, so... I'm gonna kick you out, now!” <br/><br/>“Grrr...” <br/><br/>“Work on your growling, though! You're gonna scare off the cats!” <br/><br/>“I'll do as I please...” <br/><br/>Yuri whined (plaintively,) before being summarily kicked out of Sayori's house. <br/>It wasn't – in any way... <br/><br/>She had had so much <em>fun.</em> <br/><br/>And she had... <br/>An idea...</p><p>First stop, home. She would've run with all the strength she could muster, but the sleepy provincial bus was on <em>her</em> side, today, and it made the return easier – if not terribly fast. Still faster than she could run, probably... For now, at least. <br/><br/>Her room; she knew where it was by heart. <br/>And of course she always had wrapping papers, ribbons, and various craft supplies on hand. <br/>Once she'd become known as having a good handle on atmosphere, she'd... Had to keep up appearances, after all. <br/><br/>It was not an elegant card. <br/>Nor beautiful, nor even handsome. But it would have to do. <br/><br/>The library wasn't too far off, having been built somewhat haphazardly in the more upscale part of town, before the country and lack of planning meant that there <em>were</em> different parts of town. <br/><br/><em> Please, be here. <br/>I should've called. <br/>Just – be... </em> <br/><br/>All libraries are basically chapels. <br/>No, to her view, they were infinitely more important than any great spiritual structure. It was there that you could state vague, unrelated words, and turn them into a magical spell. One that could conjure a book, or a manga, or a dvd. <br/><br/>There was a wide roof with many skylights, bringing down the last heavy rays of the bleeding orange sun. Plenty of nooks for people to read, or to rest, and access to computers, to those who no longer had their own. <br/><br/>She wondered if, perhaps, a man named Nagura had ever visited such a place, and wished she had said more. <br/><br/>But – even in a stillness punctuated only by the turning of the pages – she was here for a reason. One reason, one alone. <br/><br/>Inhale. <br/><br/>Exhale. <br/><br/>The library had a section for comics and visual arts; it was smaller, and predominantly geared towards <em>children,</em> usually with the latest rubbish Jump had to offer on full display. It – might have rankled Natsuki, a little bit, to be cordoned off in such a place, but... <br/><br/>She was there, all the same. <br/><br/>Yuri dared herself to look, and refused to look away. <br/><br/>Her small fingers were slowly tracing the pages, as if she could glean some hidden knowledge from the margins between the lines. A look of quiet concentration was only interrupted by flashes of emotion. Concern, loss, hope – hidden beneath the faint glimmer in those rosy eyes. <br/><br/>Light from the skylights above gave her a slight warm glow, radiating off the school jacket she'd put to her side – worn because she probably didn't <em>have</em> a lot of jackets. Natsuki yawned, rubbed at her eyes, and lay against her open palm. <br/><br/>Frowned, for just a minute. <br/>... <em>noticed.</em> <br/><br/>“H, hey there, Yuri! How're you doing?” <br/><br/>Despite all of it, her voice cracked. Just once – just at the very beginning. The rest of her sentence betrayed nothing; that no matter what happened and what decision Yuri had made, <em> she would always have the support of this person, whom she did not deserve and had </em> <em><strong>never</strong></em> <em> deserved.</em> <br/><br/>Yuri coughed, and took a seat opposite to her. <br/><br/>“I like your, uh... Mom-braid.” <br/><br/>“... That makes me rather dislike it. I wouldn't be a mother in a thousand years.” <br/><br/>“You'd be okay at it.” <br/><br/>She smiled, in spite of herself. <br/><br/>“Perhaps. But I don't think I'd...” <br/><br/>“Me neither. Ahahaha, the world's hard enough as it is. I wouldn't want to curse anyone to live through this, y'know...” <br/><br/>“I – I <em>fully</em> agree!” <br/><br/>And she said it with such force that a roaming librarian (and the only librarian, at that) adjusted his glasses and shook his head with a slight, incredibly diminishing frown. <br/>She bobbed her head in a quick bow, and turned back to Natsuki. <br/><br/>“Sorry... I, there are these philosophers, the – nevermind.” <br/><br/>“Oh, Yuri not excited about some dead guys? I must've really messed with your head!” <br/><br/>“You <em>did.</em>” <br/><br/>There was a pause, an utter break in the conversation. Natsuki waited, as if expecting some kind of hammerblow, or perhaps – the same things <em>she</em> would have expected. <br/>Cruelty. Callousness. <br/><br/>“I... Need you to know that it's important. I mean that – in a good way.” <br/><br/>“So I – see.” <br/><br/>“Do you mind coming with me?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, I was done with this one, anyway. I was kind of hoping – “ <br/><br/>She didn't finish her sentence. <br/>It was clear enough. <br/><br/><em>I was kind of hoping you'd show up.</em> <br/><br/>Yuri wondered if the air had already gotten colder here, or if she was forcing herself to believe that it had, to make things easier. She needed something – and their fingers met. <br/><br/>Outside, the sun was fallen, and night had started to steal in. No stars had yet shown their faces, but she felt certain it would be another beautiful country night. Perhaps a good night to walk around, in – or perhaps... <br/><br/>Perhaps she'd try to sleep, tonight. <br/><br/>“All right. So. I'm ready for it, whatever you're gonna say, whatever you're gonna do. Just – one thing first.” <br/><br/>Natsuki combed her fingers through her hair, strands striking down softly. She looked as if she might let it all down – but instead, she just let her hand fall. And, Yuri realised – <br/>She was focused on her own breath. <br/><br/>Remembering how to inhale; to... <br/><br/>“No matter what. No matter <em>what,</em> I am in your court. Okay? Because I'm an idiot, and I'm okay with that. Because I actually – like hearing you ramble about people I <em>don't</em> care about, because <em>you</em> care about them. I know I can't... Do much, but I've always known that.” <br/><br/>“People can... Surely try, can't they?” <br/><br/>“Yeah. I hope.” <br/><br/>Natsuki smiled at that, though she quickly hid behind shut eyes. <br/><br/>“A, anyway! That isn't important! I tried hard to make my feelings known, and I thought about the sort of... Cool guys you like, who carve up stones or whatever. But I'm not that kind of poet, so – so...” <br/><br/>“I think you're rather better then any of them. And this – might not be quite the response you hoped for. Please, read the whole thing before... Deciding anything. Then the parcel.” <br/><br/>“Heh, gotcha! Just be patient with me. Text is always, you know.” <br/><br/>Natsuki shrugged it off, and Yuri wished she'd said that she'd wait the entire night for her to read it – if she needed that. <br/><br/>But it didn't, of course. <br/><br/>Her lips curled in bemusement as she read the note, and read it again. As planned, it wasn't exactly the sort of card she'd expected in any of her own scenarios... Probably. <br/><br/>“One free manga, huh? From anywhere, about anything? That is – simultaneously the most I.O.U and Yuri gift I have ever received!” <br/><br/>“Don't – play it up, though I'm glad it's not anathema. It's because I – I realised I didn't know what would mean anything like the, the <em>mess </em>you've made of my heart...” <br/><br/>“Er – “ <br/><br/>“Sorry. I'm stepping on myself. I truly loved what you gave me. I don't know how to repay you. And I feel like the gift I'm giving is – selfish, meaningless, too.” <br/><br/>But Yuri's words had emboldened Natsuki a bit, and she playfully rattled the parcel in her hands. Above the two of them, the orange glow had subsided, and the first threads of night were falling over aged concrete. <br/><br/>“Oh. A <em>knife.</em> Yuri... You already helped me out on that front. I'm knived for life!” <br/><br/>Natsuki laughed a bit, and Yuri was secretly glad that she hadn't understood just yet. <br/><br/>“I mean, I guess I appreciate it, but – it's a knife, right?” <br/><br/>“Just – open it.” <br/><br/>So, Natsuki did, and it nearly spilled to the ground – nearly, because Natsuki was lithe and light on her feet, and Yuri was suddenly aware of how much she liked seeing her in motion – and how, it might be fine, to stare... <br/><br/>“I...” <br/><br/>Natsuki begin, uncertain. <br/><br/>In her hands, a handle, crudely broken. Somebody must have snapped the haft terribly crudely, without much thought about it at all. <br/><br/>Slowly, Yuri removed a blade, dulled and blunt. It had been very sharp, a night before. And someone had wrapped it carefully in between cardboard and tape. <br/><br/>“I'm – not going to throw it out here. It's just that I – <em>I don't need it any more.</em>” <br/><br/>Darkness grew in the space between them, before light by solitary light flickered to life, making it seem if each light were it's own solitary moon. <br/><br/>Under the faded yellow light, Natsuki clung to her, tightly, and neither of them said a word.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. VII. fairy flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Autumn had come sharply, bringing unseasonably strong rain. Rain that fell like flowers folded from water, and struck with all the force of a warm bullet. Invigorating, something that tempered and honed you and made you more like yourself. <br/><br/>... That was Yuri's train of thought as she idly wrung water from a few strands of her hair, not particularly noticing or caring how useless the gesture was. <br/><br/>Waterlogged dark strands obscured her face and clung to her, and made her look – perhaps a little frightening, she decided, and chalked it up as another reason to love storms. But even for her, waiting around in the little patch of woods near the school outcropping... <br/><br/>“I wanna go indoors...” <br/><br/>Sayori cried, for the seventh or eighth time. <br/>Her ability to cry while smiling was something incredibly precious. <br/><br/>“Really is something else, isn't it...” <br/><br/>Yuri offered with all the dapper restraint of someone who hates talking about the weather, but doesn't mind it so much if it's with friends. <br/><br/>“Rain shouldn't be warm! It's like biting into a bar of chocolate that tastes like betel nuts!” <br/><br/>“Sayori, you – know what betel nuts taste like?” <br/><br/>“Yeah...” <br/><br/>With a sheepish grin, Sayori wiped rainwater from the back of her neck. She'd removed her usual bright bow, and her matted hair looked more like a sunset than a sunrise, right now... Her fingers shook the rainwater free, and she coughed. <br/><br/>“It's a biiiiit of a long story, but, ehehehe, it's not one I'd repeat. I'm kind of glad I know... You wouldn't have guessed, would you? Not in a thousand, thousand years!”</p><p>Her arms stretched out wide, Sayori laughed and stumbled into a back of the – <em>well.</em> <br/><br/>A few days before, Monika had insisted on their 'backup base' being constructed. This 'backup base' was meant to be an important location for the graduation festival, but because five souls had held five different ideas of what it'd be... <br/><br/>Right now, it was just a bunch of boards on trees, with one proclaiming 'Lit. Club Zone! NO ENTRY!' which Natsuki had been very, very proud of.</p><p>“Do you think anyone else is going to come, or should we just... Fire a flare into the sky...” <br/><br/>“Ooooooh, that sounds fun! You wouldn't happen to have any flares on you, would you? Yuri...” <br/><br/>Sayori flounced over, and fished the lighter out of Yuri's pocket; and like a waterlogged wolf chasing a particularly exuberant hare, the two ran in small circles until Sayori politely gave the lighter back, having had her fun. It was good timing, too, as –</p><p>“Yo, people! I have arrived!” <br/><br/>“Aw, yay! It's! Natsuki!” <br/><br/>“Gahaha, praise my name! I brought snacks, so, y'know. They're not homemade or anything... But think fast!” <br/><br/>Sayori smoothly caught the apple, and Yuri – tried to, but her wet fingers weren't particularly skilled, and, er... <br/><br/>“S, snrk, what the hell was that? You can't think fast at all, huh, Yuri! Don't worry, you can have this one. It's unblemished, unlike the one you cruelly dropped to the ground... Klutz...” <br/><br/>“And who just hurls apples at people? Apples that... I'm fairly certain were windfalls, of a certain farmers' field – “ <br/><br/>“Hey! Gleaning is holy, right? I'm practically a saint!” <br/><br/>Natsuki smirked, and if she noticed that Yuri had already taken the mudslicked apple, wiped it well, and cut into it – that was fine. Not only was this particularly knife restricted to apples, she'd prefer it if Natsuki – only had the most... Wonderful... <br/><br/>“This is really good, Natsuki. I think you make sweet things taste sweeter just by being you!” <br/><br/>Sayori sighed, contently, and rubbed her tummy. <br/><br/>“You didn't happen to see, er... Ehehe...” <br/><br/>“Actually, I did! He said he was getting some supplies over at the 'dry goods store.'” <br/><br/>Natsuki tried to chew over her words, and Yuri – wondered if she'd look kind of cute, chewing on a bit of straw, or catgrass, or – something like that... <br/><br/>“Whatcha thinking, Yuri?” <br/><br/>Sayori kept elbowing her, with an innocently evil smile. <br/>A girl who missed this and that, but saw everything... A terrifying girl... <br/>No, a lady like a hurricane of stardust; <em>that</em> was Sayori. <br/><br/>“I'm... Just thinking about how we're all at risk of getting a cold... I blame Monika.” <br/><br/>“Yeah, same. That being said, I'm pretty sure cool girls like me can't catch colds. When I used to play baseball – “ <br/><br/>“Naaaatsuki! You played baseball?!” <br/><br/>“Uh-huh, I even did pretty good!” <br/><br/>Natsuki flexed a small arm, with small (but not insignificant) musculature. Baking was a little intensive, after all... <br/><br/>Yuri stared, but said nothing at all. <br/><br/>“Problem was, stuff happens, people change. You guys know, I'm sure. Which – was okay, for me. It wasn't a passion, like, say – I don't know.” <br/><br/>Their eyes met; and Yuri smiled, just a little. <br/>She hid it, quickly. <br/><br/>“But! I don't regret it in the slightest, oh, wow, think if we had, like – a Lit. Club Sports Team!” <br/><br/>“Ehehehe, what on earth would we play? I'm not really good at much besides track... And sometimes I zone off a bit... Oh, and I'd rather be sleeping...” <br/><br/>“Sayori, c'mon, put some heart into it!” <br/><br/>“Yes. I happen to agree. The real measure of a man is found in activity!” <br/><br/>With more passion than she'd meant, Yuri struck her flattened palm against her heart. Natsuki snorted, rolled her eyes, and looked away (after a second) while Sayori just muttered a thoughtful 'hum', trying (and failing) to keep her hair from clumping around her eyes and obscuring them, utterly. <br/><br/>“Well... Uhm, none of us are men... And you're not really good at anything physical, Yuri! Sorry. Sorry...” <br/><br/>Yuri resisted the urge to cry crocodile tears, that wouldn't have mattered at all on a day like today. But they would've been nothing, and meant nothing, because the broad smile she had... <br/><br/>“Right. Quite right of course. I just... Like the idea of lazing around, watching you two run. I'll... Hold a very powerful cheering banner. That's about all I can do, really.” <br/><br/>“Tsch, nobody'll ever love you if you embrace being lazy, Yuri! I think you and I could do an awesome two-legged race!” <br/><br/>“We'd <em>lose.</em> Terribly.” <br/><br/>“But it'd be fun!” <br/><br/>“... That it would.” <br/><br/>“What'd be fun? I hope it involves going inside. Hey.” <br/><br/>“Oh, 'sup, nerd?! You find all the stuff you were looking for?” <br/><br/>“Does it matter?” <br/><br/>Sighing, he put the large shopping bag under the relative safety of a canopy of still-green needles. Even there, the bag wasn't safe; bright crystal droplets of rain had colonised the tops of magazines and craft materials, slowly multiplying as they remained under the gently swaying branches. <br/><br/>“Wow, did you pick up all that stuff for us...” <br/><br/>“Nope. It's mostly for me. But, if any of you got dibs on it, I <em>guess </em>you could claim first dibs, Sayori.” <br/><br/>“Yahoo!” <br/><br/>“Hmn, before you excavate that suspicious bag – “ <br/><br/>“And what's suspicious about it?! A man's shopping is his own personal business!” <br/><br/>“ – Don't you think we should head indoors? Monika can... Wander around, and suffer here, like we did...” <br/><br/>Yuri mumbled, trying to speak through stubborn waves of dark hair that had fallen in front of her face. Which would've been fine, if they'd been planning to do something – ambient and a little frightening for the later months, but... <br/><br/>“Speak the devil's name, and she might just sneak up on you!~ Club Leader, Monika, is <em>here!</em>” <br/><br/>Distant lightning struck, and Monika jumped into the air; even looking like she'd been scared to within an inch of her life, there was something terribly elegant about the way her legs struck an almost diagonal pose, her half-cheerful, half-shocked smile... And even the way she faceplanted into the ground. <br/><br/>“Oh, piff. Stupid rain. I'll kick your ass...” <br/><br/>Monika muttered darkly, flipping a rude gesture to the storm; but being nothing more than water and electricity, wind and impulse, it could neither understand nor care. <br/><br/>“Anyway!~ Sorry for keeping you all waiting on lil' old me, everyone! My bike... Broke down...”</p><p>Despite the fact that they were wet, tired, and a little unsure of <em>why</em> they'd gathered, a chorus of sympathetic condolences broke out amongst the small group. <br/><br/>“But that's not important! Even when I'm suffering, for the cute faces of my beloved colleagues, I'd suffer any indignity!.. Uh, anyway, that's what I was going to say, but as Club President, I'm making an executive call and we're all hotfooting it inside, as of yesterday.” <br/><br/>Yuri somewhat wanted to argue, for the sake of it; let her teeth out, and say something <em>playfully</em> cruel, while hiding behind her long hair. <br/><br/>And yet – the desire was easy to constrain, today. As it had been yesterday. <br/>And the day before. <br/><br/>Of course, when they went into the classroom used as the Literature Club meeting room, a rather different atmosphere emerged... <br/><br/>Things had clearly changed significantly since she and Natsuki had bailed (in spirit); Sayori had brought in a computer, which she was firmly seated in front of, smiling peacefully as her digital avatar hacked through withered-looking humanoids, wielding a mighty greatsword. <br/><br/>Despite her general distaste for that sort of thing, Yuri felt the atmosphere was quite – <br/><br/>Anyway, a couch had also been moved in. That guy was lying on it, reading one of the magazines he'd brought. It <em>claimed</em> to be a feature on a new up-and-coming gravure idol, but... Somehow, Yuri found herself enraged on the idol's behalf, because he had managed to fall asleep, sort of, the magazine flopped onto his face. Occasionally, he'd stir a bit and give Sayori useless advice, like 'dodge the sword guys' or 'swing left, ish...' and return to his decline. <br/><br/>Monika was the only one of the 'core' club who remained busy, although gluing together tiny folded paper miniatures of them was not entirely something Yuri would consider of vital importance to the Literature Club. They were – well-made, though, and very cute. <br/><br/>Green eyes caught hers, because everyone fell into Monika's traps; you couldn't not. <br/>She smiled, enigmatically, and knocked Yuri's figurette over. It fell onto a maze of graph paper, and Yuri – laughed, in spite of herself. <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>Natsuki was just sitting at the windowsill, looking out. <br/><br/>From behind, she might have seemed bored, or disinterested. It was the most pleasant kind of storm, after all; one you could feel raging and telling you secrets, while remaining sheltered from indoors. <br/><br/>Droplets of water still hung on her pale pink hair, like a circlet – or a crown. Occasionally, she'd flick her hand over them, doing little but shifting their place... And Yuri felt jealous of Natsuki's fingers, and wondered if that was fine. <br/><br/>And her profile shifted in her seat, her legs crossed. The slightest of smiles broke against her lips, and Natsuki smiled at <em>her, </em>and nobody else. <br/><br/>... Yuri sat down, across from Monika. <br/><br/>“I guess you must think we've become another 'going-home' club, huh?” <br/><br/>“Not really. This atmosphere... I think I might have somewhat wished for it, before.” <br/><br/>“Really?~ Then you left at the wrong time, not that I blame you. Maybe we needed the shake-up. It's a pity... Your figure drew in a <em>loooooot</em> of interest!~” <br/><br/>“Do you mean that... Little paper wretch, or me?” <br/><br/>“Yes!” <br/><br/>“Monika... Nevermind. Uhmn... Even though I left before, you do realise that doesn't mean anything, right? I – actually think I'm ready to resume my duties.” <br/><br/>“I'm not, but I'll follow her around 'cause I don't know any better!” <br/><br/>Natsuki said excitedly from the window – then hiked her seat up, and moved it beside Yuri, even though it would've been easier to just take a seat that was already present. <br/><br/>“You didn't have to haul the chair over, Natsuki...” <br/><br/>“But it made you look. To think, you're more interested in a <em>chair</em> than me! I guess it must have been a really cute chair?” <br/><br/>They were halfway to a pleasant argument, when Monika coughed; her face was cautious, and a little surprised. <br/><br/>“Do you really mean that?” <br/><br/>“... Mmn?” <br/><br/>Yuri wasn't sure why Monika looked so – surprised. <br/>No, so <em>sad.</em> Tragic, as if something entirely unexpected, something so unpredictable that she couldn't place it into words, had occurred. Something as awful as a death in the family, or as unknowable as – as an early autumn storm. <br/><br/>“Just... That it's a bit weird that you broke free of my grasp, and you're coming back of your own free will. Doesn't that strike you as funny?” <br/><br/>“Not at all. You're my friend, after all.” <br/><br/>Yuri said, kindly, and wasn't sure why that made Monika's frown deepen. <br/><br/>“I just – didn't foresee that response, I guess. Hmn!~ You two might not believe this, but whenever I realise something is holding me back, I leave, and never glance over my shoulder. So I just didn't expect... Any of this...” <br/><br/>Her tone twisted between sorrow and hope, deciding on neither – but Natsuki shook her head, looking exasperated. <br/><br/>“Monika. I think you're thinking way too much about this. Maybe being Club Demagogue or whatever has gotten your head swollen, but you don't control everything in our lives. I'm here 'cause she is, and <em>maybe</em> 'cause I like this place. Since you're so smart, surely you can figure out that much?” <br/><br/>That, at last, brought the usual wry smile to a familiar place on Monika's face. She stretched, accidentally knocking her own figure over, and not particularly caring. <br/><br/>“Hmn, are you sure <em>you're</em> not the smart one, Natsuki?~ I wonder how you'd behave as Club President... You might do an even better job than me! Anyway, everyone!~” <br/><br/>“Listening!” <br/><br/>Sayori said, her avatar parking itself neatly near a cosily burning fire. (And Yuri wondered if setting piles of old newspapers on fire was really such a terrible sin, even as she knew that neither the school staff nor the automated sprinklers would look kindly on it.) <br/><br/>“It looks like we're all back together, at long last! The revitalisation of our literature club... Is at its maximum power! Now, we're going to get out there and evangelise the words of poetry and love!” <br/><br/>“Maximum power, huh? C'mon, Monika. We've still got light-years to go before we're at our peak!” <br/><br/>Natsuki grinned toothily, striking her fist against the table as if it lent her words even more gravitas, or – power. And perhaps it <em> did. <br/></em> <br/>“Hmn, well. Being as it may, I wanted to start planning our last hurrah – even if it'll be awhile before we truly put it into action. I think our failure to launch before was entirely my own fault. I wasn't a very attentive leader, was I?~” <br/><br/>Sticking her tongue out, Monika brought her fist against her forehead. <br/><br/>“Let's start with the basics! What do we actually want to tell people?” <br/><br/>That, of course, had been a mistake. <br/>And the quiet and cosy literature club <em>burst</em> into activity. <br/><br/>“Uh, literature can be fun, I guess. No, wait, in words you can express things, that... ” <br/><br/>“That a book is like a dear friend that you've lost contact with, but who'll always have your – “ <br/><br/>“How great visual media can be, and why every day is an excuse to try something new!” <br/><br/>“Perhaps how literature can improve who you are, and make you a better – “ <br/><br/>Four voices cross-countered one another perfectly, and went silent. <br/>Embarrassment could be loud, like the roar of thunder or the howl of wind, too. <br/><br/>“<em>Wow,</em> you really do have your loves!~ So, I'm vetoing all of that. For now! I think we need to keep the theme simple, something you can express in a single sentence!” <br/><br/>To emphasise her point, Monika snapped her fingers. And that, too, was loud. <br/><br/>“Words can mean the world.” <br/><br/>And it was a strange sentence; it meant nothing at all, nor did Yuri find it especially strong, but something about it, or the way Monika said it – cut deeply, almost too deeply. Reminescent of a distant dream, or the way she might have – wished things had been, so very long ago. <br/><br/>“I think it's a good sentence. It sounds snappy in English! And it's vague, so vague that randos might be all, hmmmmmm, literature can be fun? I'll check it out!~”</p><p>Monika smiled. It was a smile that was very thin, as fine as a grain of silver, but resilient all the same. <br/><br/>“But most of all... When I started this club, I had my own self-interests at heart. Somewhat, I still do. But – I've been thinking a lot. And I think – everyone who joined up, all of us... Have said or written something we wanted to take back, or change, or leave unsaid.” <br/><br/>Not one voice in a sea of five said a word. <br/><br/>“... And I think, that... We've changed a lot. I know I have. And I wanted to show that – the opposite is true, too. That the fun and joy we've found here has <em>meant</em> something. Which is why that vague, slightly sappy statement... Is the world to <em>me!</em>” <br/><br/>Her slight sniffle as her hand hit the table would've normally elicited all kinds of laughter. <br/>Only the wind laughed, in reply. <br/><br/>“Er, uh, so – that's my proposal. What do you think, everyone?” <br/><br/>The literature club burst into activity, discussing all manner of plan. Quite a few of them were impossible, because they had a budget and private contributions were impossible. Natsuki was a master of figuring out ways to use found objects, of course, so that was one solution, but... <br/><br/>“Imagine a sea of fairy lights! I've always thought they looked really cosy, y'know? Like being welcomed home! I mean – if that fits the ambience, or whatever.” <br/><br/>“... Don't see what it doesn't. What ambience do we actually <em>want</em> though? Before, we tried to make a place that felt as cosy for people as it did for <em>us.</em> And I don't think that worked...” <br/><br/>“Ehehe, maybe it could be a maid cafe, Yuri! Only... He's the maid...” <br/><br/>“I'm 'aight with that.” <br/><br/>He shrugged, peaceably. <br/><br/>“But why a maid cafe? Isn't B2 – uh, sorry, the 'gaming club' doing that? I'd rather not just clone their strategy. We're the literature club! It should at least be, hmn – a book cafe.” <br/><br/>“OooOooOOoO!” <br/><br/>Sayori's eyes sparkled. Actually, in a way, they <em>fed</em> off each other, and it was suddenly entirely visible to Yuri <em>why</em> they were friends. <br/><br/>“That's it, that's perfect, that's <em>adorable!</em> We could each go as a character from our favourite work of fiction, and bring in props so that other people could dress up too! And there could be... Themed food and drink, and all sorts of safe and cosy and happy things, and – “ <br/><br/>Only stopping to breath, Sayori weighed the cost and difficulty up – her mind working overtime. <br/><br/>“Wait, no. That'd be a <em>lot</em> of work, even for us. I mean – Monika, do you think it's possible?” <br/><br/>“...” <br/><br/>Monika had nodded off. <br/><em>after that speech, monika had nodded off</em></p><p><em>mooooooooniiiiiiiikkkkkaaaaaaaaa</em> <br/><br/>“I mean, yes! Absolutely!~ My VP saves me, again...” <br/><br/>“Ehehe, I saved Monika!” <br/><br/>“Don't look so proud, Sayori. Monika, you realise we're all counting on you, right? If it's up to me and Yuri, we might sabotage this, somehow... Like, I don't know... Imagine if we went with Sayori's idea, but, Yuri'd make it dumb somehow. Like – ” <br/><br/>Natsuki had clearly planned to say something to rib her, but Yuri interjected. <br/>With a very fine smile of her own. <br/><br/>“I don't mind maids... Actually... But it wouldn't fit the ambience at all. We should all wear formalwear. We can wear black, and Monika – wears white.” <br/><br/>“That's so – Yuri...” <br/><br/>“Are you implying I couldn't pull it off, Natsuki..?” <br/><br/>Her lips curled into a grin, and Natsuki's face – went red, surely from consternation. Yuri enjoyed towering over her for a minute, and then – quickly ruffled her hair when nobody was looking. She was rewarded with an elbow in the side, which she returned with a nudge from her knee. <br/><br/>This shouldn't be allowed, of course; it would probably disappear at some point. <br/><br/>... And that was fine, too. <br/><br/>“But, uhmn... For what it's worth, I really do like the idea of a book club for the literature club. Er, a book cafe? A cosplay... Book...” <br/><br/>Yuri struggled to frame Sayori's ultimate idea in a way that made sense to her, parsing it as Natsuki would (and failing) and finally giving up. <br/><br/>“It's a good idea. It has my vote.” <br/><br/>“Well, I guess I will, too – but only with two caveats. Manga has to be included, okay?” <br/><br/>“Natsuki...” <br/><br/>Sayori begin, her smile creased at the edges, but not fading. <br/><br/>“I would never, not <em>ever, </em>consider manga anything but literature. If we can't love all the books and poems and songs out there, here, nobody is going to. We're... Protecting them, right?” <br/><br/>She paused, and then quickly added: <br/><br/>“Oh, wait, sorry! What's condition, er, ehehehe, caveat number two?” <br/><br/>“It's kind of stupid, but...” <br/><br/>Natsuki fidgeted in her chair. <br/>She – <br/><br/>Yuri could feel the weight of knowledge, more terrible than any words in old and forgotten tomes. Being aware of how you must have looked, when you desperately wanted to say something, but were scared of what it might mean, or how it might be heard – she felt the soft touch of a younger girl that she no longer was, and placed her arm against Natsuki's shoulder. <br/><br/>Breathing in, Natsuki shut her eyes. <br/><br/>“This place has been <em>so...</em> Important to me. It's not like Yuri or I actually <em>left.</em> I just – followed her, to make sure... She didn't...” <br/><br/>“Get into any trouble, yeah, we got it.” <br/><br/>He might be a bit of a pain, but – Yuri was starting to think that he knew how to interject himself into conversations a little well. <br/><br/>“Yeah, yeah. That. But for me? It's not words that mean the world, or – or any of that. It's just a place, I can be, with friends. And sometimes that's here. Sometimes that's the library, and I don't know where that'll be when we're gone. And I think about it a lot!” <br/><br/>Natsuki opened her eyes, and the very faint tears she held were so terribly beautiful, as was the way she <em>pressed on.</em> <br/><br/>“So! I just want you all to promise that – even if we grow apart, and aren't friends past this, that you all write me, or something. Okay? That's – that's all, I'm done.” <br/><br/>Crossing her arms and exhaling softly, while trying to look like she hadn't said anything at all, Natsuki lay back into her seat. <br/><br/>The first to speak was Sayori. <br/><br/>“Of <em>course.</em> And I don't even like letters.” <br/><br/>“Well, I mean, if Sayori's gonna...” <br/><br/>“I'd like to hope – that we'll stay in touch even if it's not just letters. But if something like that happened, if you wanted it, I'd write you every day.” <br/><br/>Yuri had more to say; she made a note to say it later. <br/>But the tiny pressure of a hand against her own made it known that she had said enough, and that it was enough for <em>now.</em> <br/><br/>Monika said nothing. <br/>She stared at the table. <br/>Her emerald eyes were unfocused – and terribly, <em>terribly</em> sad. <br/><br/>“C'mon, Monika! Everyone already chipped in, and I don't want to lose track of you, either!” <br/><br/>“... But I'm... So...” <br/><br/>Whispered Monika, and ran her hand over her face. <br/><br/>Outside, the roar of thunder challenged them in the distance. <br/><em>Listen,</em> it said; but Monika did not listen to the sound of thunder, and Yuri wondered if she did not care for storms; if the only thing real to her was the dry air of the radiator and the pressure of their eyes. <br/><br/>... Slowly, however. <br/>Like magic, the smallest of smiles <br/>begin to blossom</p><p>on her face. <br/><br/>“Fine, fine!~ Even if it hurts me to keep in touch because effort is anathema to who I am, I, Monika, eternal president of the literature club (for life!) will do my utmost to keep in touch with all my dear clubmembers!” <br/><br/>And the rest of the day was the most fun she could remember having. <br/><br/>Natsuki stole his magazine, utterly shocked when inside of it was a much smaller magazine, practically a pamphlet; proclaiming ten easy ways to improve your poetry. He'd gotten more embarrassed than she'd ever seen him, and pleaded with Natsuki to return it. <br/><br/>Reaching up to flick his hair back, Natsuki had returned it with a smile. <br/>Who'd hold that sort of thing against anyone, after all. <br/><br/>... She had, though, rather covertly pocketed the other magazine – <br/><br/>And after they'd talked for what felt like hours, they'd crowded around Sayori's computer, and watched the adaptation of a famous novel. It was in black and white, and there wasn't a set of dry eyes by the time the movie was finished. <br/><br/>Monika knew the hidden history of it, and discussed it at length; how the director had been persecuted in his own country, and viewed as a 'degenerate traitor' even though the movie in question had been as much about how he loved his country, and his land, and his people than anything else. <br/><br/>It was a terribly beautiful movie, prone to heartache and reminiscence, and Yuri made a note to herself to research all of it when she had the time. <br/><br/>But even though the literature club had been revived, and even though they had <em>plans</em>, plans that suddenly made sense, a perfect kind of sense, all things came to an end. <br/><br/>Sayori looked out the window, sighed dramatically, and challenged him to a race back to their homes. <br/><br/>He'd only agreed reluctantly, but kept pausing to wave as they loitered at the hallway. When they left, Yuri wondered idly if they would remain friends at all, beyond this. People did change, as she was changing, but... <br/><br/>Even if it hurt, was that change... Terrible? <br/>Could monsters, change, too? <br/><br/>Perhaps – was it even so terrible, to be... A degenerate, monster... <br/><br/>Monika shut the lights off, placed everything in it's proper place, and bowed low, waving at the both of them as they left. And Yuri had wanted to – walk home with Natsuki, but she'd <em>insisted</em> on going home alone, today. <br/><br/>And the time wasn't right, just yet. One thing at a time, she reminded herself. <br/>Disicpline. <br/><br/>But when the two of them had vanished, and Yuri was back in the loneliness which she often craved, she walked through the woods to the little place that had been built as a secret base, left incomplete and abandoned. <br/><br/>It might never fulfill that purpose, never matter, and be forgotten. <br/>And there was beauty in that, too. <br/><br/>“I'm alive.” <br/><br/>She whispered to the storm, and let it chill her to the bone. <br/><br/><em>“I'm </em> <em><strong>alive!</strong></em> ” <br/><br/>This time, she howled <br/>and the wind howled back too <br/>for all storms recognise their peers <br/>even when they wear the skins of girls.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. VIII. cherry blossoms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I really ought to figure out a way to pay you, somethin'...” <br/><br/>This was the fifth live birth she'd handled on her own, with Toshio in a supervisory role. He'd been surprised by her stoic demeanor at first, since usually people had trouble with all the blood and fluids; it was messy, and dangerous for both the mother and her children. <br/><br/>Not that different from humans, she supposed. <br/><br/>“Honestly, calves are easier than piglets. This feels like a step down in difficulty!.. Though I'm glad to know the consideration of pay has crossed your mind.” <br/><br/>She flashed him a quick smile, adjusting her gloves. <br/>It was strange; she'd never thought of cows as being... Pretty, animals... <br/><br/>“Look at how grateful she is. What a proud mama!” <br/><br/>Brown eyes stared up at her; perhaps they were grateful, and perhaps they felt nothing at all. It didn't really matter, in the end; perhaps nobody felt anything at all. It was a lie she'd told herself enough that she wasn't sure she'd ever stop believing it, but... <br/><br/>The two of them sat a respectable distance away, waiting. <br/><br/>For nothing in particular; the hard work of making sure nothing happened during the birth was done. All sorts of things could go wrong, after, but... <br/><br/>“It's hard for me to accept that gratitude.” <br/><br/>Yuri confided, lips pursed. <br/><br/>“Hahaha, how cold! Guess a terribly unsentimental approach like that'd help some people...” <br/><br/>“It's the opposite...” <br/><br/>She corrected, quietly. <br/><br/>“Fine, fine. All animals care about each other a great deal, though. Even if it's an ornery cuss you're dealing with, try to understand the pain they might be going through. You wouldn't view another human as just meat, right?” <br/><br/>“Of course not.” <br/><br/>And surely Toshio Yamamura had held his own losses throughout life; struggled with things she would never know, and could never understand. But he had not noticed the hesitation as she answered, and she was incredibly glad that he said no more on the subject. <br/><br/>Smiling softly, she removed her gloves. <br/><br/>“Nothing about this can shock me. I'm more concerned about... The times it won't be so easy, and what to say to a client.” <br/><br/>“Ah, you figure that out, you let me know. Whether it's somebody's pet, or their livelihood...” <br/><br/>“Yuri! Yuriyuriyuri! <em>Oooooooo...</em>” <br/><br/>Natsuki was running towards them from the street itself, but stopped in place when she saw the hesitant glance of a mother, wary and watchful. <br/><br/>Yuri had idly mentioned the name of the small ranch she was working at, but hadn't expected to be interrupted. Natsuki's timing, like... Everything she did, really, was impeccable however. A real – woman of class... <br/><br/>“Do you mind terribly if I go talk to my friend?” <br/><br/>“Be my guest. I'm not payin' you!.. Yet.” <br/><br/>“Yet.” <br/><br/>There was the very real possibility he wouldn't be able to. On the other hand, he already drove out to several small towns in the countryside, and took clients in the city as well. The latter was absolutely crowded with professionals who mostly tended to pets, both exotic and local. <br/><br/>Out here, however, there were more clients than he could tend to; so if she chose to remain here, it wasn't as if they would be in competition, exactly... <br/><br/>Lost in thought, she loped over to Natsuki, who was trying not to stare at the calf. <br/><br/>Natsuki was wearing a lime-green sweater, one that looked comically large on her. Underneath it, something lighter and off-white peeked out; but the weather was just cold enough to make a simple t-shirt feel underprepared. <br/><br/>Her slacks were <em>also</em> a bit too big, and had been rolled up considerably. <em>Trimmed</em> too, though Yuri wouldn't have noticed, in the past. Natsuki handled most everything herself; and did so <em>quietly,</em> without drawing too much attention to it. <br/><br/>As always, her sneakers were worn, and frayed, and held together with spirit alone... <br/>Much unlike the large rubber boots Yuri wore as she walked over. <br/><br/>“You're really serious about this, huh?” <br/><br/>“I am. I can't say it's what I ever imagined doing, in the past. I think I'm becoming a little good at it.” <br/><br/>Her smiled danced across her lips; she hid it quickly, lest it grow too fierce. <br/><br/>“Sorry if I'm not – especially affectionate, right now...” <br/><br/>“Bahaha, you're never especially affectionate, so, we're good!” <br/><br/>“I'm not..?” <br/><br/><em> Hmn. <br/>That was something she'd... Have to... <br/>Correct, later... <br/><br/></em> “Not really. I mean! You could be, a little more – whatever, I'm not having this discussion with you!” <br/><br/>“Fine. We can have it <em>later.</em> M, muahaha... And you're rather – when you...” <br/><br/>Managing to stop herself from fidgeting, Natsuki glowered up at her with all the fiery pink energy she could muster – which was not insignificant. <br/><br/>“Oh, <em>stow it.</em> Anyway! You knocked it right out of my mind, but, the theatre opened back up! Well, I guess it's owned as a franchise now, but <em>who cares?!</em> I'm demanding you take me to a movie.” <br/><br/>“ <em> De, demanding!” <br/><br/></em> Yuri couldn't help herself; she laughed, and laughed, and laughed until the laughter spilled over the edges of her teeth. She knew how crooked they must look, how ridiculous she must look, but she couldn't stop. The laughter continued to pour out until she was <em>howling,</em> tapping at her side, and trying not to fall over. <br/><br/>“I'll be awaiting your 'yes, ma'am' when you can breath again.” <br/><br/>Chirped Natsuki, cheerily, and she was as good as her word. <br/><br/>“S... Sorry. I mean, excuse me... Yes, ma'am.” <br/><br/>Toshio was watching the newborn; nobody else was here. <br/><br/>Fluidly, Yuri reached for Natsuki's arm. It struck her – how... How different they were, as Natsuki stared back, uncertain. She was so much smaller, and – light. And she didn't eat well. She never ate well. And she <em>always shared her food.</em> <br/><br/>“I'm... Sorry if my if my – hand is... Gross...” <br/><br/>Whispered Yuri, uncertain if she were blushing. <br/><br/>“Y, you... Aren't, can't be – “ <br/><br/>Cautious of the fact she hadn't properly cleaned up yet, Yuri placed a chaste kiss against Natsuki's wrist. And she expected Toshio's head to whirl back, or the cattle to shoot her a baleful glare, or Natsuki to howl with laughter, or – say something. <br/><br/>'Shut up,' perhaps, or 'go away.' <br/><br/>But none of those things happened. <br/><br/>“So... So... So, uhmn... What movie, did you... Want to see?” <br/><br/>Yuri managed, teeth chattering. (It wasn't cold enough for her teeth to chatter. She was giving herself away. <em>Reign it in, </em>her mind screamed; but she, herself was reigned in by a terrible feeling of rightness.) <br/><br/>“Oh, whatever. I mean, it's not really important what it is, right? I just – wanted...” <br/><br/><em> A long time ago, Yuri had felt certain that seeing a movie with someone you were close to was a significant moment. Something that couples did; demurely, a perfect young lady should acquiesce to whatever it is her partner desired to watch. <br/><br/>Then, she had decided there was nothing important about that at all, and she had been utterly foolish. She would have been fine never doing anything like that with... A partner, ever again. Truly fine. <br/><br/>Why, then, was her heart pounding, so... </em> <br/><br/>“You – mentioned that... Movie adaptation would be due, soon. Coming out soon, I mean, sorry – I'm still...” <br/><br/>“Thinking about your work is cool. I'm proud of you.” <br/><br/>Natsuki blushed, and hid it quickly. <br/><br/>“But if you're saying that I <em>planned</em> this, I absolutely didn't! I never think that far ahead, not even a little! And if you're saying that I'd waited to tell you until I was sure it was playing, then you're DOUBLE wrong!” <br/><br/>“Oh, all right. Let's go watch a horror film, then...” <br/><br/>After Natsuki had finished whirling her fists ineffectually in the air, Yuri made certain that her work for today was done. It <em>wasn't</em> technically, and in the future she wouldn't have the luxury of being so... Selfish. <br/><br/>Toshio didn't get it either, but he didn't ask questions. Two girls having fun was nice; he'd been a kid, once. <br/><br/>“I'll escort you home, then! 'Cause otherwise, you'll just wander into the theatre smelling funky, and people'll assume you're some kind of creeper!” <br/><br/>“Well, they wouldn't be <em>wrong...</em>” <br/><br/>Yuri murmured conspiratorially, because it was easier to joke than to scream that she – had always wanted... <br/><br/>Natsuki waited patiently outside as she fiddled with the three locks on the door. There'd been a time when that wasn't enough, but – recently, she'd been wondering why she had so many. It wasn't as if they would stop a determined person, and it wasn't <em>people</em> she was scared of. <br/><br/>They'd been meant to keep a monster <em>in,</em> and nothing else. <br/><br/>After the world's quickest shower, she tried to find something – cute, and realised that she was panicking when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. <br/><br/>In that regard, nothing had changed. <br/><br/>She still hated that – ugly, asymmetric proportions. The fat in the places it shouldn't be. Everything but the lines on her wrists and her thighs. That – vacant expression, so much worse than that of a cow. Even her eyebrows were two thick, she should – remove them, pluck them, do something... <br/><br/>But it was harder. <br/>It was so much harder, as of late. <br/><br/>“Hu... Hum.” <br/><br/>Muttered Yuri, noncommittally, and got dressed. <br/><br/>“Yo! That was scary-quick. If I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't taking this seriously!” <br/><br/>“Entirely possible. Two girls going to a movie theatre together... I'm assuming I'm just your chaperone. A young woman like yourself is sure to draw... All sorts of attention.” <br/><br/>Natsuki didn't – hate flirting. <em>Flirting. They were </em> <em><strong>flirting.</strong></em> But – but with a single eyebrow raised, and a slightly <em>smug</em> smile as she pulled at the faded green fabric of her sweater, it was very clear that she... Didn't buy Yuri's insinuations. <br/><br/>“You telling me that discount, off-brand sweaters that look like key-lime pie are the next big thing in fashion? Damn! I'm so great I'm ahead of the curve, again!” <br/><br/>“I might be lying. <em>My</em> attention is... Always on you, anyway.” <br/><br/>Whistling, Natsuki looked away... <br/>But smiled. She had an incredibly beautiful smile. <br/><br/>“Fine, yeah, whatever. You're just clingy. Let's get going, don't want to miss the ninety minutes of advertisements!” <br/><br/>She didn't. <br/><br/>Wasting ninety minutes of her life, watching advertisements with Natsuki at her side sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world right now, which couldn't be right. Refusing to believe this was anything at all, and trying to force herself to not think about how her own outfit must look... Tacky, and loutish, next to this... Radiant, kumquat of a girl... <br/><br/>And the theatre had changed, of course. In an heroic attempt to appear novel and modern, the new owners had attempted to capitolise off of a connection to a certain fellow who'd lived in town, spent maybe a year of his life overseas, and become a famous moviemaker... Probably. <br/><br/>They spent a few minutes taking pictures near the cardboard cutouts. <br/>Like normal people, might. <br/><br/>Without a care in the world. <br/><br/>“Two tickets for <em>Hatred Busters.</em>” <br/><br/>Yuri said, hunching over to avoid looming in the direction of the underpaid and clearly exhausted receptionist. <br/><br/>The receptionist sighed, adjusted her thin glasses. <br/><br/>“You'll find it's actually <em>Hatred Bustiers</em> – “ <br/><br/>“I <em>refuse</em> to call it that.” <br/><br/>Growled Yuri, ignoring the snorting laughter coming from left of, and slightly below her. <br/><br/>They shuffled into the theatre, Natsuki <em>insisting </em>that they get overpriced and unhealthy snacks. Given that was Yuri's normal diet, in a nutshell, she'd planned to smuggle something into the theatre... Iced coffee, perhaps, or – sliced fruits. Something! <br/><br/>But in the end, she gave in and dutifully acquired a melange of terrible candies, all beyond the sell-by date. <br/><br/>“Wow, this is great! It's just like having a portable, grumpy piggy-bank!” <br/><br/>“I do hope you value me for more than my... Finances!” <br/><br/>“Oh, I do. I value your complete inability to read the atmosphere, your weird refusal to use proper titles, the way you kinda lurk around corners like you're gonna jump out at people – “ <br/><br/>Amazingly, Natsuki found things to complain about/admire even as they searched for their particular cinema. It was more difficult than she'd remembered, and the last time they'd been here... With Sayori, if she remembered right? There had been little lights, guiding the way. <br/><br/><em>Whyever</em> had those been removed?! It made her <em>rationally</em> angry! <em>Rationally!</em> <br/><br/>Feeling a bit like a grumpy, portable piggy-bank, Yuri resisted the urge to close the cinema door and kick it open as they shuffled inside. The movie was clearly not designed for a country audience of silver-haired retirees and tourists with a taste for rustic aesthetics. <br/><br/>The real audience were probably in the city, right now, eagerly discussing which one of the Hatred Bustiers' busts was the best in the business, or something. <em>Much</em> like Natsuki was explaining, her hand in the air and her open mouth paused perfectly on a tiny sharp fang, how the colour schema of the four was integral to their role as a team. <br/><br/>Laughing, Yuri listened intently, and tried to keep up with the 'deep' history of the manga, even as Natsuki just got more and more excited. <br/><br/>One thing hadn't changed, however. <br/><br/>Against the backdrop of a large screen, local advertisers attempted to convince the two of them that they truly needed more hardware in their life. Not for the first time, Yuri wondered if such ads ever made back their budget. There were two of them in the theatre! Two young women! And <em>she</em> had more than enough hardware, she wasn't going to get... Some discount <em>crap</em> – <br/><br/>“But the real thing that makes the <em>End of Hatred</em> saga so good is that at the end, Hatred realises that actually, they really were friends the entire time. A lot of people found that anti-climatic, you know?” <br/><br/>“People are dumb.” <br/><br/>Yuri sniffed, dismissively, forcing her vision away from an ad proclaiming BEST MEAL AROUND, BIG VALUE BURGER. <br/><br/>“Chances are they... Want some element of viciousness, right? So Hatred has to destroy her friends, because that's the way it is and will always be.” <br/><br/>“Yes, you get it entirely! But, I mean, that's dumb, right? As dumb as making a spinoff-series, but don't let me go off on that. I just feel like – not everything has to have some big dumb drama at the end. It's nice when – there are happy moments, too. I dunno. I just feel like they deserve it.” <br/><br/>Natsuki smiled, her exuberance fading from a fever pitch to – to something else, that Yuri couldn't quite place. <br/><br/>“Hey. I know you have zero interest in this, but you haven't interrupted once. Why is that?” <br/><br/>“I... Can't say.” <br/><br/>Yuri lied, and for once, it was <em>incredibly</em> difficult. <br/>Her heart felt very faint in her chest. She wondered if it was fine to suggest going for a walk, as the theatre lights started to dim. <br/><br/>“Well, miss 'I-can't-say' – “ <br/><br/>“I sound <em>nothing</em> like that.” <br/><br/>“ – Thank you for making me feel like I matter so much. Love you.” <br/><br/>One by one, the theatre lights died. <br/>Their corpses had spewed phosphor only moments before, but they were fleeing and leaving her entirely alone. She had heard the words clearly, and could not pretend she hadn't. <br/><br/>A darkened theatre, abandoned save for two souls, is like a maze. <br/>There's nowhere to run without making a scene, or demonstrating that you don't care. <br/>Part of her wished very much to do just that, to invent some crisis or problem that she could use to flee, and to never look back. <br/><br/>Even in the dark, she could see Natsuki. <br/><br/>Her eyes were watching the screen, animatedly. <br/>Not <em>her.</em> Because to Natsuki, saying those words had been simple. She had said them – earnestly. <br/>Meant them. <em>She'd meant them.</em> <br/><br/>Yuri screamed inwardly as the title credits rolled, only lured back from an abyss of self-hatred (bustiers) by the fact that the title was a remarkably catchy... <br/><br/>“Why is it an enka ballad?” <br/><br/>“'Cause the one who betrays the others is a big fan of traditional shit, just like you! Shush, unless you're gonna sing... Along – “ <br/><br/>She didn't know the words, of course. <br/>And because this... <em>Garbage</em> was designed for <em>children</em> with the brain of <em>vegetables</em>, or perhaps <em>kumquats...</em> It wasn't too hard, to... <br/><br/>Sing... <br/>Along... <br/><br/>Natsuki laughed without laughing as she slipped her lethally cute cell-phone from an oversized pocket, and began recording. And Yuri would've hated it, held out a hand in front of her face, perhaps even gotten angry – if it had been <em>anyone</em> else. <br/><br/>She trailed off as the title song fell, and the movie begin. <br/><br/>There was no way she could say that she <em>liked</em> it. Everything was rote and predictable. Speech, fight, betrayal, fight, tears, fight, makeup, fight, peace is restored, and the promise of fights to come. Oh, and a bug-man attacked, halfway through. <br/><br/>Most of the time, she wasn't even watching the film. <br/><br/>And that was fine, too. <br/><br/>When the lights returned, Natsuki shifted in her seat. Slowly, yawning, and stretching for the sky as the lights clattered to life, illuminating her small frame – which cast such a strong presence, wherever she went. <br/><br/>Pale pink eyes met hers, and she could not look away. <br/>It was too late. <br/><br/>“You look bored. Sorry if I was kinda selfish.” <br/><br/>“... I was wondering if you... If you'd like to watch it again. Or – or something. Anything. I don't care what.” <br/><br/>“Bahahahahaha, are you for real?” <br/><br/>Sometimes, people forced laughter for ugly reasons. Because they knew it would hurt more, that it could be used to pierce something that a cruel word wouldn't. Other times... <br/><br/>Right now, Natsuki's laughter was sharp, because she didn't want to believe this either. Yuri nodded, blunting the fall of her bangs with a wave of her hand, and pretended to armour herself with a shield of disinterest. <br/><br/>“I might have – missed some things. Since, you know, I'm not really a fan.” <br/><br/>“Subjecting you to a movie, again? Right after we've watched it, hoo... I don't think I'm <em>that</em> selfish. I mean, I hope I'm not.” <br/><br/>“You <strong>aren't.</strong>” <br/><br/>Unable to control her low growling (again! <em>why was she LIKE this, aaaagh</em>), Yuri turned her head away, and wondered if the way her hair framed her head looked – foolish. Stupid, ugly in some way. Maybe she could use it as an excuse, to, to – <br/><br/>“Well then! How about we go get something to eat and, we could... Talk it over, or something. I don't know what else I could tell you, but you've humoured me this far!” <br/><br/>“I'd like that, yes.” <br/><br/>Outside, the night had settled in and claimed the entirety of town. It was easy to forget you lived in the country until nightfall; when the stars hung from the sky as a mobile. They'd seemed far and distant, in the past. <br/><br/>She almost felt as if she could fit them in the palm of her hand, right now. <br/><br/>“Anywhere's fine, since you've been a real lady, a perfect gentleman, we could get one of those 'BIG VALUE' burgers they were advertising! Uh, d'you think they have BIG VALUE salads, or maybe noodles...” <br/><br/>“Mmn, sure.” <br/><br/>Yuri mumbled, and might have just continued to stare at the sky if it weren't for the incredible warmth of a small hand, framed by a terribly bright lime-green sweater. <br/><br/>They passed that particular restaurant, and Natsuki tugged at her sleeve once or twice, but Yuri kept walking. They walked for some time, and – Natsuki trusted her enough not to say anything. And that just made it hurt more, and yet... <br/><br/><em> Perhaps that pain was quite similar to what she was used to. No, perhaps that would explain so very much. </em> <br/><br/>“Uh.” <br/><br/>Natsuki began, scratching at the side of her cheek. <br/><br/>“This... Definitely ain't a big value burger.” <br/><br/>Personally, Yuri felt certain that the restaurant wouldn't have qualified for a single star in the city. It was a chain, too, after all; but it was the classiest place in town she knew of that was open this late. And she was tired of – wandering, after all. It would be fine. <br/><br/>“Everything's a bit expensive... I can – “ <br/><br/>“If you order something cheap, I'm going to... Drag your scrawny ass back to the theatre, and we're just going to watch... <em>Hatred Bustiers – </em>“ <br/><br/>“Hoho! You <em>said</em> it!” <br/><br/>“ – Until you hatred burst. So. You better not... Disappoint me.” <br/><br/>Words can convey a multitude of meanings. <br/>Naturally, they both knew this well. <br/>And Yuri didn't want to doubt. But, since she was so terribly frightened – <br/><br/>Pawing at her menu irritably, Natsuki feigned a frown. <br/><br/>“Yeh, yeh. Fine. I get you. So, uh... Uhmn.” <br/><br/>“Uhmn, indeed.” <br/><br/>And Natsuki burst into laughter again, and that was enough to start things off – especially with the timely arrival of cold water. <br/><br/>“Do you ever just, y'know, feel like a movie is made for you? I know you're not big on movies, outside of that crap you like – “ <br/><br/>“I think horror is pretty similar to anime. They're both acquired tastes, and they can be deeper than you'd expect.” <br/><br/>“O, oh! Are you gonna admit it?!” <br/><br/>“I am. Green's betrayal hit me harder then I expected – “ <br/><br/>“She <em>has</em> a name, Yuri.” <br/><br/>“But I don't know it! They're... Light blue, yellow, dark blue, and green to me. Sorry.” <br/><br/>“You aren't <em>sorry</em> at all!” <br/><br/>Honestly, the food wasn't important. Perhaps she'd made a mistake coming to a place like this and trying to make it – traditional. <em>Right.</em> But the desire to worry about it had left, too, leaving her with only her feelings, tempered by uncertainty. <br/><br/>Rather like a knife. <br/><br/>“... For me, it's just. They've been through so much. S – 'Dark Blue' finally has her happiness after she transforms, and it's just? There's this risk of it being taken away? That's so fucked up! And it would've been easy to just let them all die, and say – that's it, that's the way the world works.” <br/><br/>“And I wouldn't have hated that, as an ending.” <br/><br/>“But you didn't mind that it was happier, right?” <br/><br/>“... No. No, I didn't.” <br/><br/>The restaurant did, indeed, have noodles. Natsuki twirled linguine with an unfamiliar curiousity, but hunger won out over caution. Her eyes lit up, violently pink. <br/><br/>“Freakin' greaf!” <br/><br/>“Chew.” <br/><br/>“Nefer! Afy, I mean, anyway.” <br/><br/>From across the booth, Natsuki stared at her. Truly stared at her. The conversation died; <em>Natsuki</em> killed it, and they spoke without a word. <br/><br/>She wasn't sure how much time had passed. <br/><br/>“Your – your food'll get cold.” <br/><br/>“I don't care.” <br/><br/>“Oh, aha. Cool.” <br/><br/>Outside, rain had started to fall again; pattering against the windowpanes peacefully, each tiny prism shattering and crystalline as carlights and signs interfered with their broken forms. <br/>Broken... <br/><br/>Reminded her of something. <br/><br/>“You know, I keep expecting you to wig out on me. Just – go back home. Like you always do.” <br/><br/>Perhaps true intimacy is being able to talk about the ugliest parts of yourself. To admit that you have flaws, that you are not <em>perfect,</em> and that imperfection is as much you as the things you crave most. <br/><br/>Natsuki stared out the window, and traced one of the shattered droplets with a small finger, leaving barely an imprint. <br/><br/>“I wouldn't blame you. I know who you like. What you like. And I'm always, y'know, weighing that against me in my head. Uh, not your fault, this is all me. But none of that really scares me. It's that you'll get tired of who I am. Even if we split up, I'm never gonna stop feeling this way. Which is – probably messed up, right?” <br/><br/>Yuri hadn't expected her to smile, let alone – feel so... Candid, with all of this. <br/>She suppressed her laughter, because it would sound sharp, and cruel. Suppressing some part of you – didn't have to be camouflage, something wicked. You could do it because you loved someone, too. <br/><br/>... <br/><em>ah.</em> <br/><br/>“Maybe. I'm... Probably not the best person to ask about that.” <br/><br/>“No kiddin'! Well, I mean – you seem healthier. It makes me – really, I feel like I'm gonna explode all the time. Tiny little Natsuki shards everywhere, entirely your fault.” <br/><br/>“I'm – terribly sorry about that. If it ever comes down to it, I'll put them back where I found them.” <br/><br/>“Don't joke, right now – “ <br/><br/>Yuri brushed her hair back. <br/>Natsuki inhaled, and returned to staring at the window – very intensely. <br/>... If occasionally glancing, just for a second. <br/><br/>“I am doing no such thing.” <br/><br/>More time passed; the server left a cheque, and Yuri signed it without glancing at it. <br/><br/>Outside, the night air was warm; that soporific warmth that can only exist in-between rainstorms and cold places. <br/><br/>“So.” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered, half to herself. <br/>They hadn't stopped holding hands since they left. <br/>It'd almost certainly rain again, soon. <br/><br/>“You – I wanted to thank you for telling me how you feel, first. Before anything. That's – really difficult, isn't it.” <br/><br/>“Not as much as the rest of it. Talk is easy. Standing in your shadow is easy. Feeling like you're happy, it's like my job is done. The rest is all just me being greedy, right...” <br/><br/>“I – you're...” <br/><br/><em> She had meant to say that Natsuki was wrong; and explain it logically, like she might lecture her on some kind of forgotten philosophy. That is what she had meant to say. <br/><br/>With the clouds promising rain, she knelt down; all she could do was speak, physically. She had struggled with it for so long, praying she might meet somebody who understood. <br/><br/>She had. </em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. IX. rose of sharon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In her mind, it had gone something like this: <br/><br/>Natsuki, staring up at her with eyes twinkling an impossible pink, her hands clasped (with surprising daintiness) in the air, her leg slightly up, holding that posture as Yuri wave around her magical sceptre (approximation). <br/><br/>Probably muttered something like: “Beware, evildoers. My light obliterates all lies! Fluorescent phosphor luminescence, magical wickedness eradicator, eternal fire of the celestial eye!” <br/><br/>With lace and frills and all that manner of fluff flouncing around as she shook in place. And if... Anybody had decided to stare, and suggest that she filled out such an outfit nicely, that was quite fine, and if it was Natsuki doing it, that was just – dutiful behaviour in a proper relationship. She had no issues with it, not one. <br/><br/><em>However.</em> <br/>In reality... <br/><br/>“Could you please stop shoving your ass in my face.” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, somehow managing to balanced a needle in her teeth while rotating a tape-measure with incredible skill. <br/><br/>“I, I can't always control – “ <br/><br/>“Yeah, yeah, great, you have an ass.” <br/><br/>“This is... Unbearable...” <br/><br/>With autumn underway, the desire to start an early lead on their plans had gripped the literature club and plunged it into a fervour. Not one day passed without new and interesting ideas by the club members, and somehow it'd boiled down to, well... <br/><br/>“Still can't believe you'll be cosplaying 'Green' though! This is every girl's fantasy!” <br/><br/>“I... Doubt that, so very much...” <br/><br/>Yuri murmured sulphurously, trying not to wince as Natsuki elbowed her back, trying to fix an unfixable posture that had grown entirely too welcome over the years. <br/><br/>“Well, I think it's really cute! Ehehehe, and I'm so impressed with how good you are at this, Natsuki!” <br/><br/>Sayori had kept her favourite literary character a well-kept secret, and Monika was trying to get her to spill the beans with a combination of bribery and intimidation; the former, Sayori took without promising a single thing, and the latter went entirely over her head... <br/><br/>Probably. <br/><br/>“Mmmf, I mean, thanks. I do this for my own clothes all the time though, I'm amazed none of you noticed.” <br/><br/>Yuri <em>had</em> noticed; but she'd said nothing. <br/>And that had been wrong, but – people make mistakes. And she would <em>fix</em> them, as much as she could. <br/><br/>“Well, I'm actually pretty good with crafty stuff, too! Ehehehe, and I wondered if it'd be okay if I helped?” <br/><br/>“Are you kiddin'?! Ohhhh, that'd be <em>great!</em> If you're interested, I mean.” <br/><br/>Natsuki appended in a hurry, trying (and failing) to suppress her own excitement. <br/>Soon, there were <em>two </em>girls poking and prodding her, and Yuri – was surprised to find... <br/><br/>“This is actually rather relaxing.” <br/><br/>“It's for a good cause, too! I can finally die happy...” <br/><br/>“Don't die, or I'll drag you back from hell with my bare hands.” <br/><br/>Yuri growled, and Sayori snorted. <br/><br/>“Gosh, you two... So, if you're going as, uh, I dunno the characters' name...” <br/><br/>Natsuki mumbled something, while tilting her head from side to side, like a master craftsman who doesn't <em>entirely</em> like what they see, and is taking steps to improve upon it. <br/><br/>“... But who're you going as, Natsuki?” <br/><br/>“Oh, duh! Since Yuri's humouring me, I'm going as that broody guy who randomly kills somebody at the start of his book! Krampus or whatever. That's the author's name – “ <br/><br/>“<em>Camus! Camus, Camus, Camus!</em>” <br/><br/>Unable to stop pouting, Yuri did the <em>one</em> thing she was allowed to do during this <em>humiliation,</em> and stomped her foot irritably against the floor. It did not shake or create any real sensation at all, and she simply stewed in her own powerlessness. <br/><br/>“Like I said, Krampus. That's not the character though, he's this... Broody guy, tall, dark hair. It's basically just Yuri.” <br/><br/>“Natsuki, I'll...” <br/><br/>“Right now, you're basically unable to do anything. I mean, you could, but we'd have to start over. Oh, wow, this feels – indescribably awesome...” <br/><br/>“Ehehe, isn't Mersault kinda tall, though?” <br/><br/>“That's the point of cosplay! Even if you look nothing like the original depiction of the character, you're making them your own. I think it's really healthy; it reminds you that who you are inside is important, but also... I don't know. Let's people who maybe don't have a lot of characters like them, y'know...” <br/><br/>Natsuki trailed off, lost in thought. <br/><br/>“Anyway. Yuri is, what'd you say – “ <br/><br/>“Squishier!” <br/><br/>“Right, squishier than... Ugh, 'Green', so we'd have to do something immoral if we were trying to do a 'faithful' cosplay. Fuck that. I forbid it.” <br/><br/>“Once you're both finished talking about me as if... I'm a slab of stone, or meat, or...” <br/><br/>“Ehehehe, ehehehehe... This really does feel amazing, Natsuki. Yuri's our prisoner! We could do anything to her, right now! We could even make her play <em>videogames!</em>” <br/><br/>“The fact that's the first thing that comes to mind is why you're the best, Sayori. Tape.” <br/><br/>“Tape!” <br/><br/>“Hey, ladie... <em>s.</em> What the hell is this.” <br/><br/>“You answered it yourself. Hell. Turn back, there's no escape.” <br/><br/>Yuri shot him a pleading-yet-nasty- look, and he shrugged and took up his usual spot on the couch... Plopping down a bag overloaded with sugary softdrinks and cold canned tea. Her tormentors fled to it like moths to a flame and she (after asking permission) let her shoulders down for a moment with a drawn-out sigh. <br/><br/>“Goodness... It's like posing for a portrait...” <br/><br/>“Ooooooo! Have you ever done that, Yuri?! You do have a kind of classical appeal!” <br/><br/>“Not at all. But it makes you think, doesn't it; whether the art is visual or technical, it's something that takes an incredible amount of time and labour – uhm, and I truly do appreciate the hard work you're both doing. I <em>do</em> look forward to this.” <br/><br/>She offered a quick smile, and Natsuki – who was wolfing down green tea like it was the only thing she'd consumed in the entire day – shot her a thumbs-up in reply. <br/><br/>“Nnf, glad to hear it. This is pretty difficult on my – on our end, too. And I hate not doing my best. I – “ <br/><br/>“<em>okay... everyone...</em>” <br/><br/><em><strong>WHUMPF.</strong></em> <br/><br/>Dragging sorrow behind her like a halo of regret, Monika spun into the room – ponytail dangling behind her – and fell face-forward onto a desk. <br/><br/>For a few brief moments, nobody said anything at all. <br/>Then Monika started sobbing – or approximating tears, anyway. <br/><br/>“Those guys... That principal... Saying 'oh, but Moniiiika, you only have five dudes in your club. You know who really needs that money? The kendo club!' BITE ME, ASSHOLE! You'll get yours...” <br/><br/>“Uh, so, chief, everything okay?” <br/><br/>Speaking of guys, he tried to sidle towards Monika – amazingly, it was possible to backstep and sidle at the same time, and Yuri mentally decided she'd coin the word 'backsidling.' <br/><br/>“NO! No, I am NOT okay! I mean. Sorry, everyone!~ Just a little... Angry...” <br/><br/>Raising herself from the desk, leaning against a palm, and managing to put herself back in her typically perfect posture, Monika tried to smile; it lagged at the edges. And she kept shooting venomous green glares at old men who weren't even present. <br/><br/>“There, there, Monika. I'm sure it'll be okay in the end! What does that even mean we lost out on?” <br/><br/>“It's not that bad, Sayori. You're right! You're right... I just, I had a vision – “ <br/><br/>Sighing, Monika smoothly undid her ponytail, staring at white fabric as if it were something more. <br/><br/>“ – and I guess it was just a bit too much to hope that my natural charm'd be enough on its own. Really, I can't do anything unless I push things a bit, huh..?” <br/><br/>“That's hardly true!” <br/><br/>Yelled Sayori, twirling her arms in place. <br/><br/>“Strong agree.” <br/><br/>Mumbled her friend, who had gone back to being tertiarily invested. <br/><br/>“I mean, c'mon. Monika, you're as charming as the dickens! It's just, the principal is kinda old? I bet his ears are shot! That'd do it!” <br/><br/>Natsuki offered, and still it wasn't enough. <br/><br/>Three pairs of eyes turned to the girl playing at being a statue, praying that Yuri, perhaps, would know some magical enchantment to turn Monika's mostly-made-up-despair into nothing more than a minor defeat. <br/><br/>“Well...” <br/><br/>Yuri begin, comfortingly – trying not to move. <br/><br/>“Even if things didn't go entirely as you planned, we're still very fond of you, Monika. Even if it's just the five of us, the literature club can't lose!” <br/><br/>Monika let a strand of something white fall to the floor. <br/>Her brown hair fanned out behind her, and she stared expressionlessly at the ceiling. <br/>And suddenly, Yuri was gripped with a terrible sense of fear – <br/><br/><em>had </em> <em><strong>she</strong></em> <em> once looked like that, too.</em> <br/><br/>But the moment passed, and Monika chuckled. <br/><br/>“Right, right. You're all right!~ I'll just turn my charm back up to it's normal value, and bedevil them with my style!.. I just, thought – it would've been nice to win on my own merits. Anyway, here's what that means for us right now!” <br/><br/>One man and two women shuffled over to the war room; Yuri tried her best to look as if she were listening intently (she was!) without throwing anything off. <br/><br/>“We'll probably have to give up on anything beyond this space. Which isn't terrible, but – it's gonna be cramped. The other thing is, several other clubs have first call on the kitchen. So – “ <br/><br/>“Hey, I'll bring some cookware. My parents are always out, right Sayori?” <br/><br/>“Yeppers! You're basically an orphan!” <br/><br/>“Ugh, don't phrase it like that...” <br/><br/>Before he could disengage, Monika got a weird look in her eye, coughed, and begin re-doing her ponytail. <br/><br/>“Wait just a minute. Uh, I didn't catch who you were going as – you seem like you've already – “ <br/><br/>“Oh, right. <em>Nikita Kruschev.</em>” <br/><br/>And suddenly, he and Sayori were <em>howling</em> with laughter, and Yuri had just – given up on that front. They had their own in-jokes, and that was part of the wonderful thing that friends were. You didn't understand everything, and <em>didn't have to.</em> <br/><br/>But, was he serious... <br/><br/>“Anyway! Monika!” <br/><br/>Natsuki coughed, looking rather serious herself. It was hard not to believe this tiny woman might yet be a fearsome battle commander, if she so wished it. <br/><br/>“So what about all of that?! We've got each other, I <em>think</em> the four of us have costumes planned, and weaknesses are just advantages! Yuri said some famous tactician said that, and I trust her implicitly!” <br/><br/>“I might have been – paraphrasing...” <br/><br/>“Whatever. Anyway, look at it like this! It's a lot cheaper and less time-consuming to decorate a classroom than it is to, say, mess up the entire gymnasium, like you'd planned.” <br/><br/>“But I wanna...” <br/><br/>Muttered Monika, pounding the table again. <br/>She had a very – petulant frown on her face, right now... <br/><br/>“Sure, and I wanna do a lot of things. Like go scuba-diving in the south pacific.” <br/><br/>“Really?~” <br/><br/>“Well – well, yeah.” <br/><br/>Placing her measuring tape against the table, Natsuki – sighed, a little, and stared at the back of her hand. The atmosphere seemed to stretch and change, becoming something else – but not entirely unpleasant. <br/><br/>“Everyone has dreams that are out of reach, right? That – maybe can't ever happen. I don't know if I'd be brave enough to scuba dive here, let alone in some island chain I know nothing about. That's what makes them dreams.” <br/><br/>Natsuki's smile – hurt, and Yuri forced herself to stare at it, so she wouldn't forget this part of her, either. <br/><br/>“I realise you're bummed we didn't get to – I don't know, rent the entire school, or whatever.” <br/><br/>“That was the plan!~” <br/><br/>“But – I mean, it's the impossibility of the things you can't do that makes the things you can do taste a little sweeter. I mean, Yuri can't <em>possibly</em> be having any fun doing all this – “ <br/><br/>“Oh, I – am, having... A lot of fun, actually.” <br/><br/>“Yuri! Play along, geeze – I mean, I'm glad, but listen! Sometimes, it's okay to not have things go your way. Anyway, we'll always be here to cheer you up!” <br/><br/>“Hear, hear! And, Monika, I think it's really sweet that you tried so hard, without telling us. You must really have wanted to surprise us, huh?” <br/><br/>Shot straight from the heart, the sincerity of Sayori's words would've melted glaciers. <br/><br/>But Monika just – coughed, a little. <br/>Frowned – a little more. <br/>For a second. Only for a second. <br/><br/>“Yep, that's definitely what I was thinking of. Caught me!~ Aha, ha...” <br/><br/>Then, the energy faded once again, and she slapped her cheeks, <em>hard!</em> <br/><br/>“What the heck am I doing, letting you four cheer me up?! I'm the fearless club president, who everybody adores!” <br/><br/>“Not everybody. I'm souring on you a little more, every day!” <br/><br/>“That three cute women adore, and one stickler can't appreciate because he's a bore!~” <br/><br/>“There we go.” </p><p>He, somehow, managed to lay back in his seat. <br/>Feeling fixed to the ground as she was, Yuri couldn't help but find it a <em>little</em> impressive. <br/><br/>“Anyway, enough sulking from yours truly. If I've lost this round, so be it. Punishment can always come later – in any case, I actually prepared some nifty homework for all of you!~ So, you know how certain authors toy with the audience and their perception of things? Making a sweet story suddenly sad, or the reverse?” <br/><br/>Yuri <em>strained</em> in place, and felt – a little like sulking herself, actually. <br/><br/>But Natsuki had straightened up in her own chair, leaning her hands against the rim of a chair she'd balanced against it. She was watching intently, the soft pink of her eyes not moving as Monika gestured, with unequalled passion. <br/><br/>Sayori moved behind her and gave her a soft, gentle embrace before taking a seat herself, and was soon joined by her friend – who didn't even pretend to grumble this time. Monika pursed her lips, thinking for a minute, before continuing. <br/><br/>“I think it's even more noticeable when an author <em>doesn't</em> do that. When a story is very clear about being happy, or sad, or – any number of themes, and wants you to know that despite dips into sorrow. Which is why, everyone!~” <br/><br/>Her animated clap brought all eyes to her, and that seemed to restore some of the energy that she'd been missing, slicked back into place as a sea of green. <br/><br/>“Today, I want you to think about that. What you admire in a story that sticks to its guns, and if you feel like a story like that has every right to co-exist along more experimental, confusing narratives. We'll regroup tomorrow! And remember!~ <em>Violence is a survival trait.</em>” <br/><br/>She glowered once more at a principal who wasn't present, and everyone laughed – well, Yuri very much wanted to agree, but it was neither the time nor the place. <br/><br/>As the literature club disbanded for the day, Natsuki helped disencumber her, looking incredibly pleased with herself. <br/><br/>“Thanks for putting up with all this. I mean, as a bonus, I now have your measurements, but – thanks.” <br/><br/>“My... My pleasure!” <br/><br/>And she meant it, every word. <br/>Even with the way she felt like her legs were made of gelatin. <br/><br/>“But I mean, Monika striking out, huh... I guess even someone as perfect as her runs into an immovable wall, sometimes.” <br/><br/>Monika had already left – quick and silent as she always was. Not even the ghost of ivory keys signalled that she had been present. And it always struck Yuri as peculiar that she left so quickly after the club had met; almost as if she was eager to be away. <br/><br/>Perhaps, in her own way, Monika craved isolation, too. <br/><br/>“The principal... Is probably full of shit.” <br/><br/>Yuri confided, and Natsuki agreed with a solemn nod of her head. <br/><br/>“Oh, totally. But still! Here, oh, just a sec – “ <br/><br/>The autumn air still hadn't turned cold, yet. She wondered if this was normal; if the planet, spiralling into some kind of eternal death throe, might just deny her happiness by itself. The spectre of litter against pothole-clad country roads spoke volumes, cans rattling forth as if summoned by a light breeze. <br/><br/>Natsuki was holding her jacket over her school uniform, looking thoughtful. It amused Yuri to no end that she didn't seem too bothered by the cold, either – but perhaps they were alike in... All sorts of ways, and the thought hadn't been able to quite leave her, just yet – <br/><br/>“So, uhmn... Diving?” <br/><br/>“Yeah. Not like you, or anything. You probably don't remember, but I sat in once. Y'know, in one of those bundled-up classes, before you got held back.” <br/><br/><em> Not 'fallen behind.' <br/>Got 'held back.' </em> <br/><br/>And Yuri wondered if it was possible to love somebody too much, but neither knew nor cared. <br/><br/>“I was crying like crazy, because I didn't want to swim. Don't ask me why, it was stupid kid logic. Stupid, dumb, kid logic. But I wanted <em>to</em> swim. I mean – water is... I feel like sand and water are the safest place you can be.” <br/><br/>“Well – “ <br/><br/>“Don't you 'well' me, I know you're gonna bust out some weird statistic about, about shark attacks or something, and I don't mean that! Ahaha, uh, where was I – oh, yeah. Promise not to laugh?” <br/><br/>She promised it, and meant every word. <br/><br/>Natsuki sighed, and stared up into the autumn sky. <br/>The leaves were falling as rain, now; even when the air was clear and thick with only the distant smell of woodsmoke, hidden and obscured in some fenced-off yard. <br/><br/>“Part of it is that I want to challenge myself. Part of it is that I feel like nobody can be scared or alone in a place like that. Maybe it's just 'cause I thought you looked more scared than I did. Kids are – dumb, huh...” <br/><br/>“I think you're rather smarter than... Some old, dead fellow, who... Nobody cares about.” <br/><br/>Yuri trailed off, and stared into the sky too. It would've been too easy to break her promise, otherwise, or say – verbally, or in some other manner – just how pleasant she found that flustered shade of red. <br/><br/>“F, fine! Okay, whatever. See if I – take you to... I mean, if you wanted to...” <br/><br/>“The south pacific... Well, as long as Sayori doesn't tempt us into trying betel nuts, I suppose I can pencil it in. <br/><br/>“I was – you know, just – the two...” <br/><br/>“Mmn.” <br/><br/>Natsuki somewhat <em>shoved </em>herself against Yuri's side, and not for the first time Yuri wondered what the two of them must look like. It was a small town; it was old, and rural. Nobody seemed to notice or care, but nobody ever seemed to notice or care. <br/><br/>Yet, she was not stupid, merely ugly and beastly; but a beast has a certain cunning, doesn't it... <br/><br/>Around them, the quality of houses faded further. <br/>In the country, you could always tell a gradual decline.</p><p>How rusted corpses of cars lurked in overgrown fields, never to drive nor see another inch of road again. Where the fenced walls of doghouses no longer held dogs, but unpleasant memories, mixed dark red and forgotten. Where anger exposed itself not by how it seethed, but by it's camouflage.</p><p>Monika had been right, of course; viciousness <em>was</em> a survival trait, and that was perhaps what Yuri disliked most about humanity. <br/><br/>“So, we've reached my stop! I'll catch ya tomorrow!” <br/><br/>Exactly how many times had they been this way? <br/><br/>Natsuki was entirely fine 'escorting' her home, but even when she allowed the reverse, there was a barrier that existed here. And when Yuri had been flush with the usual overwhelming, overpowering love, it had been impossible to acknowledge; but she had tempered her love, made it stronger, and could see. <br/><br/>Her eyes were open, now. <br/><br/>“Uhmn... Natsuki.” <br/><br/>She hated how weak her hands felt. She hadn't been able to progress beyond stretches yet, and although she no longer got quite so winded, the simple reality was that there was a fine limit to how much she could improve. <br/><br/>They were pale, and dainty, but her long fingers only excelled at catching hair in-between them, and winding it up as if it were dark silk. <br/><br/>Pleasant to look at, powerless to do even simple things. <br/><br/>... No, of course not. <br/>She was not, and would not stand for, being so... <br/><br/>“I was just thinking that – you should come visit me. In fact, I'd like it very much if you slept over.” <br/><br/>Wind scuttled along the empty streets, kicking up garbage and the scent of smoke. She inhaled it deeply, drawing what little strength she had from the distant scent of fire. <br/>Somewhere, something burned; and she burned, too. <br/><br/>But Natsuki's eyes had paled, and refused to meet her own. <br/><br/>“You – really...” <br/><br/>Were her first words, subsumed quickly by something else. <br/><br/>“I mean, wow, that's surprising! Very cool of you, I mean, I'm pleased, but, y'know. My dad's helpless without me, ahahaha! So, yeah, no, maybe some other time – “ <br/><br/><em> Don't give up. Find a way to say it right. Make her understand. <br/></em> <br/>A sea of voices swam in the maze that was her mind, all bellowing advice that was as powerless as she felt. What good did any of them ever do, if they could not help one girl? What good were any of her books, her philosophies, her candles and charms, if they were all, so... <br/><br/>She bit her own hair, and if it'd been skin, would have drawn blood. <br/><br/>“Maybe I'm helpless without you too. Maybe I'm begging you.” <br/><br/>“I, I... I, I, I... See...” <br/><br/>Begin Natsuki, and gulped. <br/>Her eyes shut. <br/><br/>“Well, <em>maybe</em> is a dumb word, huh? Isn't it?! You'd have to – haha, say something a lot stronger, 'cause I know you don't really believe that, you dumb – “ <br/><br/>“All right. I'm barely hanging on without you. Please.” <br/><br/>The last word could not even be called a whisper. It was a shadow of a whisper, the dying rattle of a girl who had been subsumed and replaced by the tall, mange-haired beast that she had become. It was cowardly and uncertain because <em>she</em> was cowardly and uncertain, and had<em>only</em> been certain about how much she wanted this <em>one thing,</em> so, so... <br/><br/>“Please...” <br/><br/>Natsuki stared emotionlessly into the overgrown yard. <br/>And, for a brief moment, she was going to agree; had agreed to, and only lacked the words. <br/><br/>Something, a sound. Kind of weak, actually; not bellowed or shouted. <br/>Weak, and pathetic; something you <em>pitied,</em> rather than <em>hated.</em> <br/><em>but she </em> <em><strong>hated</strong></em> <em> it all the same, and would </em> <em> <strong>continue to hate it until hate itself held no meaning </strong> </em> <br/><br/>“You heard the man! I mean, I'm flattered. Maybe some, ahaha, some other time...” <br/><br/>“Of... Of course. Natsuki.” <br/><br/>Natsuki smiled and waved, and <em>left.</em> <br/>As she'd known she would, as everyone always did. <br/>Yuri walked only far enough to no longer cast a profile against the night air, foisted her long skirts around her knees, and sat on the grass near the sidewalk. <br/><br/><em> Howling up to the sky, she did not care at all that people might hear; that some child might pass and ask whether a girl or a wolf was baying so angrily at the smoke-burnt sky. <br/><br/>She howled until her throat burned, until she'd sunk her fists into the soft soil, until she could only inhale without exhaling, her ragged breathing accentuating the fallen darkness of her hair. Because she'd failed, and never had held any chance at success. <br/><br/>They had been playing at this foolishness, and she allowed it because it was a pretty lie. <br/><br/></em> Curling up into a mess of herself, she wondered if she might just stay like this. Perhaps someone would find her, and ask why she was doing this. Perhaps she would – do something, who could say, on a night like... <br/><br/>No. <em>No, </em> that was not correct. <br/><br/>The smell of smoke was terribly distant, but she could smell it all the same. Autumn was a season that burned; like she had burned, and still clung to embers. <br/><br/>What did it mean, to defend... The honour of a household? Was the loyalty she had held onto as girl limited to your family, or could it extend to people whom... You... <br/><br/>Her fists tightened. She shook the dirt off of them, and dispassionately watched it fall to the ground. <br/><br/>Inhale. <br/><br/><em>Exhale.</em> <br/><br/>Rising, unsteadily at first, she stared thoughtfully at a distant house, unremarkable from any other. And she loped back home, licking her own wounds, and <em>thinking. </em>It was not possible for her to duel this problem, to trip it up or – anything so drastic. And all the parts of her that felt like that were <em>wrong,</em> and needed to be... Kept in check, lest they make it all <em>worse.</em> <br/><br/>But. <br/><em>But..!</em> <br/><br/>She listened to the jangle of old infomercials coming from the Yamamura household as she swiftly slid back the two locks she'd held on her door. (Three made no sense; two was a fine number.) <br/><br/>Had she truly come so far, for all of this? No. She had come so far because her friends cared for her. Because <em>Natsuki</em> cared for her. It – was truly like one of those ridiculous, stupid... Magical girl... <br/><br/>Scowling, Yuri kicked her shoes off, pulled up a seat at a dust-covered table, and <em>thought.</em> <br/><br/>Perhaps there was truly no hope at all. <br/>She could even accept that; had always known it to be true, to some extent. <br/>But, then again... <br/><br/>One day. Just one day at a time. <br/><br/>The germ of an idea came to her, and it was not revolutionary or certain as she liked; and she realised that there was no certainty, and anything she did might just make the situation worse. What she needed was courage, so that – that... <br/><br/>Her heart hardened, she drifted into an uneasy sleep, missing the hesitant ring of a phone that silenced itself after leaving another unanswered message, from one of two people who had already made it clear that they would never return.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. X. hazel shades</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a sunny day, without clouds to hide behind. <br/><br/>She had woken up early, as she was getting better about doing. And she had spent two hours staring at the mirror, as if her vicious reflection might have some secret advice; advice that would not be vicious but perfect, understanding and successful in every way. <br/><br/>But it didn't. <br/><br/>Everything about her ached, and in her mind, she saw visions of a tunnel. A tunnel decorated with soft red lights, that promised safety. <br/><br/>“Humph,” <br/><br/>Yuri muttered, and trimmed her hair, instead. <br/>Only enough so that it fled down to her shoulders, rather than almost flaring around her hips. <br/>The dark violet strands against the floor were comforting, too; and nobody cared how much she cut <em>them.</em> <br/><br/>Or... <br/>Had she been mistaken? <br/>And had – nobody – cared about the rest, either? <br/><br/><em> There's no time for doubt. We're out in the wild, now. The country air'll do you good. </em> <br/><br/>She inhaled deeply, after she locked the door... A third lock having rejoined its forlorn peers. And she could remember the past, as so vividly as if it had been a day before. <br/><br/><em> He looked ridiculous, really. An old Japanese man in so much hunting gear. This was his hobby and escape from things, but it was really just playing; playing at being an adult, with the cost measured in the lives of others. Little animal lives, that didn't matter... But mattered deeply. <br/><br/>Grandfather looked riotously happy on these little trips, until he didn't. <br/><br/>Until he just stared at the animal carcass in front of them, and sighed. Talked about finding a use for it, about how good venison sausages were, things she didn't truly understand. He never stopped looking at it, either. <br/><br/>Ah, that must be it; their blood was cursed. She'd just – inherited it more strongly... </em> <br/><br/>Yuri hurried past the Yamamura household. She had <em>chosen</em> to be brave, today, but that did mean she wanted others' to see her bravery. It was not meant for them, it was meant only for – one person, in the whole world... <br/><br/>So, it was only natural that the whole world conspired against her. <br/><br/>“G'morning, Yu...” <br/><br/>The front lot of the school was littered with bicycles and mopeds. After the principal had insisted that motorised vehicles weren't aloud (because of Monika!), Yuri had given up on arriving to school on Genmei. The walk was good for her, anyway. <br/><br/>... <br/>Here was a funny thing. <br/><br/>Before her was a girl, whose name was Sayori. <br/>Sayori was someone it was easy for other people to forget about, because she smiled so brightly, and filled up your heart with her smile. And sometimes she was a little late, and sometimes she missed things; <br/><br/>but she always <em>noticed</em> them. <br/><br/>And people tended to forget that, and write her off, or simply stop paying attention. And right now, the girl that was so easy to write off was paying a terrible attention to her, and all Yuri's false confidence felt like it would die upon the shore; she wanted to flee, she wanted to run away – <br/><br/>“Ehehehe, you really look cute in a cami! Awwww, I should've worn one, too... Are you cold? I've got a sweater, if you need one.” <br/><br/>It was a smile that burned like the sun, on a cloudless day. <br/>There was – no judgment or hatred, there. Since Sayori had known, had <em>always</em> known... <br/>Yuri tried to fight back the tears, and it was usually so <em>easy,</em> why not <em>now – </em> <br/><br/>“A, a, a... As for that, I'm fine. I prefer the cold. Un... Unless you think I need one, a sweater...” <br/><br/>“Hmn... Since there's only club today, I think you'll be a-okay!” <br/><br/>“Yes, that's... What I'd...” <br/><br/>Sayori hugged her, very softly. <br/>Her smile was soft, too. <br/><br/>Neither of them said anything, and Yuri wished she could just melt into that warmth, and never think about any of it, ever again. <br/>She couldn't though; and her mind still held forth one thing; <em>discipline.</em> <br/><br/>Inhale. <br/><br/>Exhale. <br/><br/>“But I hadn't noticed you got into fights with wild animals and they banged up your legs, too! Ehehehe, maybe you should consider a band-aid or two, next time...” <br/><br/>The two of them walked into the abandoned schoolhouse, the only buildings still open outlet classrooms used for club activities. It wasn't entirely empty; she could hear the baseball team practising in a distant field. <br/><br/>Sayori had returned to talking about club activities and plans, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To her, perhaps it was; perhaps there was nothing that could be done that – might make a rift, between them... <br/><br/>“Yo, Sayo... O, ri... Uh, Yuri. Hey.” <br/><br/>“H... Hey.” <br/><br/>His eyes met hers; she could see the faint dark brown of them underneath his hair. He – inhaled, sharp and clear. Turned away for a moment, and then turned back. <br/><br/>“So, uh, uh, how's the weather?” <br/><br/>“It could be better.” <br/><br/>... Were they all going to just – allow this? Permit her to go freely, without any challenge at all? Not that – any of their opinions mattered, right now. There was <em>one</em> person she was doing this for. <em>One.</em> Not them, not herself, not anyone else. <br/><br/>Still... <br/><br/>His thin little smirk... <br/><br/>“Man, Sayori. You were right. Seems Yuri can even get her ass kicked by cats – “ <br/><br/>“Aaaawwwwwwww, geeze, I didn't say that! You bully!”</p><p>They were old wounds, after all. It was – probably clear to all of them. So there was no reason for concern. <br/><br/>But she didn't <em>deserve</em> this. <br/><br/>Yuri sat down, wondering if the contrast between a black camisole, white flesh, and greying white lines that had once been a hungry red was <em>too much,</em> and maybe she'd been <em>too </em>aggressive, and the point she was trying to make, would feel... Wrong, somehow... <br/><br/>“Good morning, everyone!~” <br/><br/>The door slid open easily, and all their eyes turned <em>her</em> way. Monika breached through a carefully-controlled sanctum, and sparkling green overwhelmed all her defences. Those fearsome, terrible, bewitching eyes... <br/><br/>“Today is going to be a short day today, because I've got some extracurricular activities of my own to take care of. Anyway, let's begin!~ <br/><br/>... Said nothing at all. <br/>Yuri wanted to sob again, but there were no more tears. She shouldn't be allowed off this easily. Someone should, want to... <br/><br/>But they worked, and laughed, and had fun together; no Natsuki. <br/>It was almost lunch, and if ever there was a time for her to appear, it was now. (No Natsuki.) <br/>Everyone was watching the clock, and making sure not to talk about it. <br/><br/>No Natsuki. <br/><br/>“Well, I – guess that's it for today! Good work on your form, everyone!~ Now, I've gotta go, but you're welcome to... Stay and wait as long as Sayori does. Assuming you didn't lose your keys?” <br/><br/>“He got me a lanyard!” <br/><br/>Sayori said with pride, holding up a bit of string that (did, indeed) hold her spare keys... And a variety of small charms, as well. <br/><br/>“Okay, well, if there's – nothing else?~” <br/><br/>They were all staring at her; but not <em>at</em> her. At the ugly parts of her, the parts she hated, not the parts of her she'd chosen, that she'd<em>made.</em> Because even though they cared, they had it all <em>wrong! </em>That, that... That... <br/><br/>Pretending that they were admiring her haircut instead of her bravery, Yuri smiled softly. <br/><br/>“I can't think of anything, really. Do you know, though, if the school library is still open...” <br/><br/>“The school library? I mean, I guess?” <br/><br/>Monika was caught off-guard, and Yuri wasn't entirely sure why she'd asked. It wasn't as nice as the actual library, but – ah, <em>that</em> was it. <br/><br/>“Glad to hear it. Please have a good day, everyone.” <br/><br/>She walked to the school library; she did not run. <br/><br/>It was not a trove of hidden lore, or a stuffy excuse for students to get lost in. There were no great stacks or towering bookshelves that might function as armour for a girl who was, at least in part, still young. <br/><br/>And there was nobody else present, though she'd felt – she had prepared herself for other possibilities. <br/><br/>Yuri realised that she did not know what else to do. <br/>That – looking for Natsuki might make things worse, as well. If she – wanted to be on her own, for awhile. And Natsuki had always let <em>her</em> retreat, when she needed to – <br/><br/>– But perhaps that had been a mistake. <br/><br/>Lost, and without any answers, Yuri pulled a book at random and tried to read. An unsatisfying mystery that assumed the reader was a young man, with a young man's interests, she nevertheless managed to keep up with the detective and have – a small amount of fun. <br/><br/>Outside, was the sun low? <br/>Had she missed her chance, perhaps... <br/><br/>And all this... <br/><br/><em> Two steps. <br/>One after the other, no limping or hesitation, nothing like her own. <br/>Light, impossibly light. Like a girl who could only exist in the shadow of a girl, maybe one that was taller than herself. <br/><br/>And their hesitance as they tapered off. The owner of those footsteps was searching for something, too. It might not have been the same thing; no, it almost certainly wasn't. <br/><br/>Shuffling, and the creak of shelves that couldn't quite be reached. <br/><br/>Yuri wanted nothing more than to go and offer her a hand, but her courage had fled her, along with all her words and thoughts and tiny strengths. <br/><br/></em> Natsuki emerged from around the corner. She looked absolutely fine, of course. <br/>And if her smile lagged behind her face, like she wasn't quite sure how it was supposed to go, that happened to all sorts of people, including Yuri, herself. <br/><br/>And even wearing a uniform as she did, Natsuki didn't have any visible blemishes, didn't have any visible wounds, was visibly <em> fine. <br/><br/>Fine, fine, </em> <em><strong>fine.</strong></em> <br/><br/>Yuri's teeth ground against each other. They were <em>fine,</em> too, like the edge of something sharp that had been blunted, that she'd allowed herself to blunt. <br/><br/>“Natsuki – “ <br/><br/>“H, heyo, Yuri. Sorry 'bout last night!” <br/><br/>Maybe she was sweating a lot; that wasn't something she'd ever been able to control well. Not when she was with people she – she loved. Not at all. <br/><br/>But Natsuki's chirpy reply sounded like old VHS cassettes she'd heard of her grandfather advertising pensioners that their accounts were in good hands; sounded like a pre-practised speech that was nothing like her, sounded like <em>lies –</em> <br/><br/>“I mean, I guess I got a bit obnoxious, right? That's me. Dumb as hell! Ahahahaha!” <br/><br/>“Ha, ha, <em><strong>hah.</strong></em>” <br/><br/>And her breathing was ragged. Natsuki hadn't said anything, but had surely noticed. <br/>They were dualing, fighting somehow. Each staring right into the others' eyes, and trying to pretend they weren't. <br/><br/>“So, uh... I've been doing some thinking.” <br/><br/>Natsuki sat down, opposite to her. <br/>Looking up at her as if Yuri had become something else, or Natsuki had finally seen through her disguise and identified the monster she truly was. <br/><br/>Was that how it went? And the fearless knight slays the wild beast, in the end..? <br/><br/>“And, and, I – y'know, I've always understood that you get way too fixated on people, right?!” <br/><br/><em>the words stung so much more than </em> <em><strong>anything</strong></em> <em> Natsuki could have said about the scars, as those were healing, it had </em> <em><strong>never</strong></em> <em> been about them, but the battles she was fighting inside</em> <br/><br/>“I... Understand that I do, yes...” <br/><br/>“Well, and, you were – being really selfish, last night. <br/><br/>Natsuki started, quickly rolling her own collar back, before it might have betrayed something that would've matched so beautifully with Yuri's bare arms. <br/><br/>“And, y'know, y'know... Asking someone to just stay over. For your sake, too! That was selfish, right? And I thought – some people helped me understand that's probably not healthy for either of us, so.” <br/><br/><em> each word had been carefully rehearsed. her breath felt ragged. like she'd already been killed, and was just waiting for the vultures to pick out her guts with their enamel and claws. but she wouldn't give them the satisfaction, she'd strangle them with her own hands, she'd – </em> <br/><br/>“...” <br/><br/>“What. <em>Nothing to say?</em> That's not like you at all, Yuri. I mean, you've <em>always</em> got something to say, at least to me.” <br/><br/>A momentary, terrible anger flicked across Natsuki's face, one that Yuri had almost forgotten about. Oh, it had been <em>ages</em>, hadn't it? Positively ages! Then, if they were going to fight like this, there was, no problem... <br/><br/><em><strong>looming </strong></em> <em> back over the table, a fearsome beast hunched over itself, sneering down at a small woman who was already clearly quite reduced. diminished, exhausted... </em> <br/><br/>Yuri couldn't bring herself to fight Natsuki. <br/>Her cruel words died before she could even whisper them. <br/>She wanted to die. <br/><br/><em> Oh, how funny, usually she thought about it a bit more – ephemerally... </em> <br/><br/>“W, well?! C'mon! Tear into me, all right? Say I'm a dumb bitch, or – or I don't know, I'm sure you can think of something! 'Cause you <em>always</em> do? Or is it because I'm not – you've never really...” <br/><br/>“... I'm truly sorry. I know that I have a problem with – wanting things too much, Natsuki. You're <em>right.</em>” <br/><br/>“No, Yuri, please, I didn't mean – “ <br/><br/>“Doesn't matter. Perhaps you did, perhaps you didn't. Perhaps some <em>one</em> put you up to this. Doesn't matter. You're right.” <br/><br/><em> it hurt so much. it hurt. <br/>like nothing else had. like nothing else would. <br/><br/></em> Yuri reached for long hair that was no longer present, and let her hands drift up until she found just-shorn tresses. They played through her fingertips easily enough. Natsuki was watching. Her brief, <em>adoring</em> smile hurt even <em>more.</em> <br/><br/>“Maybe I am... Too... My love might not be healthy for anyone, really. I have tried very hard to moderate it.” <br/><br/>“... Yuri!” <br/><br/>“And! Even still! I have <em>come so far,</em> and nothing I have said is – is just for my sake! I thought it would be easier to pretend to be selfish then to say... Something terrible, that I couldn't take back, and that I wanted to protec – “ <br/><br/>“There's nothing to protect me from.” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, expression dull, and the line of conversation was <em>killed.</em> <br/>Perhaps Natsuki might be a perfect hunter, too, some day. <br/><br/>“... <em>Fine.</em> Do you expect me to try to cling to you now, and say that I'll do something... Regrettable, if you leave...” <br/><br/>She hated her sweat. How it knotted up all along her face, trickled down her bare shoulders, pooled up along her skin. It traced the old aqueducts that were long-dead scars, scars she'd made. They were bone-white or grey, and all but untouched; some had the faintest tufts of snow-white about them, like hair that was cotton, cotton which drifted away if you scratched at them... <br/><br/>And she did not scratch them. What would that have said to Natsuki..? <br/><br/>“Yeah. Yeah <em>I do.</em> In fact, maybe I don't even care if you – just stay in your room all the time. So, if you could just – leave me, this is my favourite spot. I don't want you – fucking it up, okay...” <br/><br/>“... I'm sorry.” <br/><br/>They made a point of not staring at one another, and Natsuki spoke again, so terribly quietly that even straining her ears Yuri could barely hear it – even in a room were they were the only living souls, surrounded by the sarcophagi of unread books. <br/><br/>“I am, <em>too.</em>” <br/><br/>Both of them pretended to read in silence. Like this, they could pretend that everything was fine; it was a game of pretend, where you occasionally smiled or laughed or made a show of being alive, for the sake of someone you loved. <br/><br/>It was a murderous game, far crueler than words. <br/><br/>Natsuki folded her hand, first. <br/><br/>“I, I mean! It's not like it'll be like this forever. What's a year, anyhow? We can still hang out in <em>college,</em> or whatever.” <br/><br/>“But I'll be here...” <br/><br/>“Yeah, yeah, I know. And it's probably best we don't, right? R... Wait. Uh, <em>shit.</em>” <br/><br/>A flicker of life returned to Natsuki; whatever balancing act she'd been playing at subsumed by <em>her,</em> and Yuri clung to that brief sight, that small and self-satisfied smile that died as quickly as an open flame. <br/><br/>“I actually – brought something for you. Maybe it's a farewell gift, I dunno. I don't want you to read this one yet, or even open it. Just – for when you're not being healthy with people, don't become like... There's a character...” <br/><br/>The gift was clearly a manga. <br/>It was clearly one that Natsuki had read a lot, despite protesting that it wasn't her usual taste, despite protesting so many things. <br/><br/>Yuri took the carefully, <em>lovingly</em> hand-wrapped gift, and wasn't sure if she wanted to cradle it or destroy it. <br/><br/>... No. <br/><br/>She knew full well that she'd never wanted to destroy <em>any</em> of this, and never would. <br/>Her eyes shut. <br/><br/>“Thank you, Natsuki.” <br/><br/>“I mean – it's the least I could do, right? You see <em>right through me.</em>” <br/><br/>“... Well, it's the same with you. We're not very good at this, are we... Being adults.” <br/><br/>“Nobody is. Everyone just – hurts and hurts and hurts people, and I thought somehow I'd be different. But you can't control your own life, right? Someone else is always – pulling the strings.” <br/><br/>“... I refuse...” <br/><br/>“There's nothing you can do.” <br/><br/>“I, I will <em>not </em>accept...” <br/><br/>“Yuri, you know it even more than I do. I just fought it longer. 'Cause I love – loved you, I mean, or thought I did. But you were right, man, to think that such a gloomy dumbass would turn out to know more than me? What does that even say, huh..? I – “ <br/><br/>“<em>I won't allow this.</em>” <br/><br/>Everything she had endured had been pointless. <br/>Fine. Yuri could accept that! She could accept her own life was pointless, that all the things she loved were pointless, that all the books she read were pointless, and that all the thoughts that had been sewn so tenderly into ink and left to rot were pointless, too! <br/><br/>Her parents had suffered pointlessly, bringing a child into the world; and lying to that child. <br/>That child had suffered, and lied to keep living. <br/><br/>But... <br/><br/>Her hand hit the table, and barely made a sound. She was just a girl, not a beast, not a monster. Just a useless girl, with weak hands and weak lungs, and a weak spirit. <br/>But she was not dead, <em>yet.</em> <br/><br/>“Natsuki. Would you let me – try one thing. And after that, if you want to, do... Anything, whatever you need to do to – to keep on going, I'll... I'll stay out of your way. Or <em>whatever</em> you want.” <br/><br/>“... Go on.” <br/><br/>It was the first time Natsuki felt as small as she was; like she'd crumpled in on herself and left to drift alone in an uncaring ocean. Yuri wanted to – to just hold her, and never let her go, and never let anyone do or say anything that might make her feel so terribly small, ever again. <br/><br/>So she did. <br/><br/>Natsuki didn't recoil at her embrace, but didn't smile, either. <br/>Even still, on memory or instinct, her arms reached up around Yuri's back, and they clung to one another, in silence. <br/><br/>“I can't tell you, what I'm going to do...” <br/><br/>“Well, then I can't let you do it.” <br/><br/>“But I can tell you that I will hurt <em>nobody. </em>I am not going to... Be cruel, or violent. I am not going to... Listen, to...” <br/><br/>“Do you promise?” <br/><br/>Natsuki's voice was so <em>sudden,</em> you would have been forgiven for not noticing how weak it was; how it hung and cracked in the air, finally giving in to the small shred of hope that had been alien and unwanted before. <br/><br/>Yuri wanted to bite her lip; she inhaled. <br/><br/>“I <em>do.</em>” <br/><br/>“... We, well, you've always been... Kind of a stubborn bitch...” <br/><br/>“That I <em>am.</em>” <br/><br/>“And I mean, I probably couldn't – stop you, right?” <br/><br/>“Probably. The best way to try would be to stay close to me, though.” <br/><br/>“Would it...” <br/><br/><em> and it killed her how silent Natsuki was, how her loud and boisterous voice had been paused and allowed to wither. but she </em> <em><strong>heard </strong></em> <em> it. that faint confidence. and, Natsuki looked up at her; her eyes were as bright as roses. and Natsuki looked at her wrists, and </em> <em><strong>saw.</strong></em> <em> <br/><br/></em> “Hey. You look pretty cute in a camisole.” <br/><br/>“You're – not the first to say that...” <br/><br/>“Oh, is someone trying to steal you away?! I better be careful!” <br/><br/>“Wouldn't that mean I'm... Still, yours...” <br/><br/>“People don't own other people. But if you're – saying, if I'd like to be together...” <br/><br/>Natsuki trailed off, and it was fine that she said nothing at all. Hesitantly, small fingers traced small patterns; and they'd grown so worn that even the tiniest touch from Natsuki dwarfed those pale rivers. <br/><br/>“I can't believe you got so strong, Yuri.” <br/><br/>“But I didn't. Not – alone...” <br/><br/>Once more, their eyes met. <br/>Natsuki licked her lips, ground her teeth together, and tapped at the table. <br/><br/>“F, fine! You wanna fuck things up further, make me really hate you? <em>Go right ahead! </em>See if I care when your big, stupid face ends up – just hurting yourself more. You can just trip in the dirt and die for all I care!” <br/><br/>“I'm not going to die.” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered, having meant for it to be a promise, and to sound more determined than she felt; but the energy had turned strange and giddy, and Natsuki's nervous laughter – was revitalising <em>her,</em> too. <br/><br/>“M, maybe. Maybe we'll both die, who the fuck knows?! I didn't really know you'd ended up slicing up your fat fucking legs, either!” <br/><br/>“Slicing up – that sounds so – “ <br/><br/>“Is <em>that</em> what you take offence at?!” <br/><br/>“No. I take offence at the fact that someone who is so<em>incredibly important</em> can barely manage to <em>read her manga right-side up!</em>” <br/><br/>“That, hey, Yuri, low-blow!” <br/><br/>Slapping the manga (which she'd only been pretending to read) on the table, where it was (indeed) wrong-side up, Natsuki growled, and clicked at her teeth. <br/><br/>“But whatever, I'm not the one who makes promises she can't keep. So – do whatever it is you're gonna do, so I can laugh at you, and tell everybody else just how gross you look, trying to be a normal human being, all right?!” <br/><br/>“I'm! I'm doing it!” <br/><br/>Yuri managed, and they broke into laughter. Natsuki was shaking, but not crying; and she could feel her own lip wobbling, but that was all. <br/><br/>How terrible love was, that it filled you with such a strength. <br/>And yes, it would've been so much easier to never know it at all. <br/>But she was here; <em>they</em> were alive. <br/><br/>Shutting her eyes, Yuri breathed in and out. Slowly. Patiently. <br/><br/>“Escort me home.” <br/><br/>“Oh, you're gonna <em>ask</em> for my help, now. What are you, a... A princess...” <br/><br/>“No, I think I'm the long-suffering knight who – rescues the princess, actually...” <br/><br/>And Natsuki didn't respond to that, at all. <br/>... Almost. <br/><br/>“Hurry up...” <br/><br/>They were silent as Yuri went home, and silent as Natsuki watched her fiddle with three locks. Silent save for the sound of faded television comedy, coming from the Yamamura house. Natsuki pretended to go and watch as Yuri went inside, quietly packing everything she needed. <br/><br/>Just clothes, really; a blazer thrown over her camisole, a longer skirt, and school supplies. A few books. <br/><br/>As they walked silently together, hand in hand, Yuri stared up at it; as far as castles went, it was nothing so much a fortress as it was a house, but it might have been a fortress all the same. <br/><br/>She knocked on the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. XI. paper flowers (a. fyodor pavlovich)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>First, let us paint a picture of a house. <br/><br/>Contrary to what she had expected, it was not small nor cramped inside; nor particularly left to the forces of decline. <em>No;</em> there was a very certain pathway that decline had been permitted, even encouraged to take... But the portrait had gotten ahead of itself in her mind. <br/><br/>Inhale; exhale. <br/><br/>There was a worn brown hallway with a worn brown rug. Facing the entrance was a worn travel poster, advertising blinding blue water and golden beaches in some tropical locale. <br/><br/>Several small pairs of shoes, kicked to the side and diminished by a single pair, much larger; mud stained the bottoms. Mud had been tracked everywhere, removed solely by the labour of one person, who was doing everything possible to recede into Yuri's shadow. <br/><br/>And to the right was a kitchen. And it was not poor nor poorly maintained; it was comfortable, modern, and middle-class. There were nice tools and nice cupboards and a <em>very</em> nice refrigerator, and a pathway of something-like-mud that had been (once more) cleaned up very dutifully, making a path from the door to the fridge to the room farthest to the right. <br/><br/>In that room, there was a television set. It was very large, and very flat. She supposed that meant it was very modern, but it would not have mattered if it were an ancient wreck, with rabbit-ear antenna. It wasn't, of course; it was perhaps the most expensive thing in the house. But the fact that it was didn't mean much on its own. <br/><br/>Such as it was, it was a very modest living room, with a somewhat mildew-scented brown rug, or a rug that had been stained brown. The creamy beige of the walls seemed to fold in on themselves, highlighting a darker beige chair, in which a single man sat. He was somewhat tall, but hunched and haunchy, and hardly particularly intimidating. <br/><br/>He had not glanced at them yet, perhaps assuming Natsuki was alone. <br/><br/>Finally, the hallway continued on to three rooms; two bedrooms, a restroom. A bureau was crammed awkwardly into the hallway, several awards and trophies precariously placed against it. A photo, as well; featuring a large man, hand roughly clasped to the back of a much smaller figure in a baseball uniform. <br/><br/>The glass had been broken, mended, and broken several times. The photo itself was clearly placed to face a certain room. <br/><br/>Yuri forced herself to glance back at Natsuki. <br/><br/>Natsuki was entirely silent. All the life had completely drained out of her, and she was existing <em>to</em> exist. Like the slightest sound, the slightest misstep would invite... <br/><br/>“Hey, uh. Who're you.” <br/><br/><em> his voice was tiny and reedy. she'd wanted to build it up as imperious and deadly, and it sounded like he had a breathing issue. which she knew she shouldn't resent. </em> <em><strong>but she did. </strong></em> <em> and it would be easy then, to wonder, were his windpipes especially weak? she was taller than him. he was old. he looked like he had gummy knees; he probably had gummy knees. it would be </em> <em><strong>easy.</strong></em> <em> <br/><br/></em> Inhale, exhale. <br/><br/>Mssr. Camus might have written about such – violent solutions, but the real world was not so simple. And he had been behind enemy lines, once, and found a far more subtler method of dealing with matters... <br/><br/>“I'm Natsuki's friend. I'm here to sleep over.” <br/><br/>She smiled, pleasantly enough.</p><p>His glassy eyes could never meet her own, kept flickering to Natsuki stubbornly. He kept on biting his tongue, biting down on what she assumed were cold sores. <br/><br/>They stared at each other for the better part of a minute, but no longer; there was no great moment where the tension burst. A little moments, however, blossomed like flowers in the blink of an eye, or through the stem of an eye. <br/><br/>How he he kept waving his finger at Natsuki, then somewhat rubbing it against his stomach. <br/>A strange, laboured breathing, followed by sniffles. The adjustment of a hairpiece he would have been better off without. <br/><br/>Finally, he shrugged, clearly unsure of what to do. <br/><br/>“There's pop in the fridge.” <br/><br/>And he sat back down in the chair, and continued to watch television adverts. <br/><br/>Silently, <em>clinging </em>to her hand, Natsuki led her to the room that broken photograph leered at. It was a small room, but not ugly. There was not a lot of ornamentation, save for various sport jerseys, hung against the wall. Along, Yuri could not have imagined them meaning much to Natsuki, but – she could see where some were works in progress. <br/><br/>Quietly, Natsuki sat on a brown chair, facing a brown desk. <br/>A solitary computer that was clearly from a previous generation faced her; she started it and – started playing a single-player card game, then the one where you had to guess where hidden mines had been set, then the card game. <br/><br/>Over and over again. <br/><br/>Yuri said nothing either, but set out all the work she had brought. And there was a <em>lot</em> of it! Years of not taking her studies seriously had meant that she was behind in biology, maths, history... All sorts of things she'd need to get a veterinary degree, let alone graduate. <br/><br/>And she couldn't hear herself <em>think</em> over the loud roar of canned laughter and commercials claiming to know of a famous' admiral's lost gold, but that was fine. This, too, was pantomime. <br/><br/>Every few minutes, a thump of feet down the hallway. They were not particularly heavy, but he walked awkwardly; and they sounded more leaden than they actually were. He'd stop near the door, breath out of his mouth, clear his throat, but never knock or enter. <br/><br/>Occasionally, he'd crack it open a bit, and she would smiled softly at him. Nod her head, occasionally, return to her work. <br/><br/>More time passed. The moment the clock hit five, Natsuki stopped her idling and walked quickly to the kitchen, Yuri loping behind her. The dinner Natsuki made was not especially delicious nor filling; he shovelled it into his mouth, grunted, and returned to his spot while they returned to Natsuki's room. <br/><br/>And so the pattern continued. At eight, promptly, as if on a timer, Natsuki got quietly into her bed, and pulled the covers up. A flicker of life darted to her eyes, for a moment. <br/><br/>“What about you?” <br/><br/>“The floor is fine.” <br/><br/>It said a great deal about how much they understood each other that the comment, at least, made the ghost of a smile dance across Natsuki's face – before a vacancy returned, and she pulled the covers even higher. <br/><br/>Anyway. <br/><br/>The floor <em>was</em> fine. She liked the hardwood, hadn't grown used to the ceiling here. And anything even hinting of impropriety would be as much of a mistake as... Anything else. <br/><br/><em>She would </em> <em><strong>not </strong></em> <em>fail.</em> <br/><br/>8:30, he loitered in the hallway. 9:00, as well. At 9:30, he opened the door a bit, glanced at where she was still working at the disk – cleared his throat. And so on, and so forth. <br/><br/>But, at 11:00 PM...</p><p>It started and ended with a long sigh. Not a sigh of defeat or anything so dramatic. Just a long, petulant, drawn-out sigh, like somebody who'd dropped a scoop of icecream or a cup full of shaved ice on the pavement of a summer day, and planned to sulk about it for the rest of the season. <br/><br/>His heavy feet muddled over to the garage; she could hear the jangling of keys, the roar of an engine. <br/><br/>Yuri got up, adjusted the pleats of her skirt, and watched from the window. A wood-panelled sedan from a foreign country, probably once a car that others had considered 'classy' or 'sexy', spewed smoke as it pulled slowly out of the drivewaay. <br/><br/>Patiently, she went to the porch and sat outside. <br/>There was no chair, so she sat against the porch itself. <br/>11:30. 12:00. 12:30. 1:00. <br/><br/>But he wasn't going to return. <br/><br/>And she wandered back in, and Natsuki was waiting there, wearing a pale pink dressing gown. A ghost, clinging to waves of soft artificial light. <br/><br/>“What did you do.” <br/><br/>Her hoarse whisper was <em>unbelieving, and the thing was...</em> <br/><br/>“I... Don't know.” <br/><br/>Yuri replied, rubbing at her head, and sitting down against the floor, one hand against her knee. She had thought – there would be more conflict, that he might – <br/><br/>“He just does this, sometimes. Usually when he's angry, but never <em>like this.</em> I guess he'll probably go rent a room for a month or two, gamble, y'know... That sort of stuff.” <br/><br/>“I... I see.” <br/><br/>She couldn't, actually. <br/>For the first time in the entirety of her life, she couldn't even <em>began</em> to imagine. <br/>Her forehead felt heavy as she rubbed at it, but – <em>but...</em> <br/><br/>“A month or two, you say?” <br/><br/>“H, hehehe, yeah... He... Y'know, he gets real frustrated and just leaves to waste more money.” <br/><br/>“I always thought you were poor.” <br/><br/>“Well – I guess I am. He just chooses where to spend it, so...” <br/><br/>Natsuki crept closer, inch by inch. <br/>He wasn't going to return. <br/>She was shaking. <br/><br/>“You... Actually...” <br/><br/>And whatever she was going to say, Yuri could not imagine; because <em>huge </em>shuddering tears came without any tears at all, Natsuki's eyes clenched shut as she shook in place, shivered, roared internally. And Yuri <em>could</em> understand that, and just waited until it was fine. <br/><br/>When it was, Natsuki absolutely <em>clung to her,</em> to every inch of her. Didn't move or shake or make a single sound. And when she pulled back... <br/><br/>Hands held to either side, jauntily, a familiar smile. <br/>Wide, and bright, and toothy. Full of life, happy and unbeatable. <br/>The only smile she ever truly needed. <br/><br/>“I, y'know, I can't get my room the way I like it when he's around, so it's a bit ugly right now, but...”<br/><br/><em>Perhaps the entirety of her life had been meant for this point. <br/>And if that were the case, all the suffering in the past had been worth it, as would be all the suffering the future might hold. Anything, just to know that for a moment... </em> <br/><br/>Natsuki's fist pushed back against her eyes, wiping away the traces of tears. <br/><br/>“Welcome to my house!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I apologise if this chapter is somewhat anti-climatic for some. <br/>It lines up with my experience and estimation of this kind of fellow.<br/>I would rather not waste words on those who don't deserve them.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. XI. paper flowers (b. i exist in your heart, and the hearts of all men)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neither of them could sleep that night – or, admittedly, for the next few days. Theirs was an innocent excitement, born of shattering something that had once seemed impossible, of tearing down a wall that had been built from ground diamonds, and finding out that diamonds are merely carbon, and nothing else.<br/><br/>“So, uh, wow. Eh, man... Having a girl in my room... Feels kinda funky! I could get used to it!” <br/><br/>“Maybe a girl will... Just leave, and there'll only be one.” <br/><br/>“What, are you gonna go watch some television? Eh? Catch up on your soaps? <em>Eh?</em>” <br/><br/>“You sound... Like an old man...” <br/><br/>“Ohoho, whippersnapper! Wait, no, that's more <em>you</em>, wait, wait. <em>YURI.</em> Oh, give me a minute...” <br/><br/>Natsuki <em>jumped</em> onto her bed, which had not been built to handle much pressure, and creaked in protest. It flexed well, however, having been reinforced several times. Yuri glowered at the bed, but it was a bed; it could not return her glare. <br/><br/>Meanwhile, Natsuki was <em>rummaging </em>through drawers, throwing out all manner of things; one or two stuffed animals, much more spartan and woebegone than anything Sayori had, several books – including one, Yuri noticed with a small smirk, that she had <em>absolutely</em> leant Natsuki – and quite a lot of threads, patches, stickers... <br/><br/>Cruft collected at her feet. Yuri patiently organised at it as Natsuki searched, grumbling to herself. Finally, she let forth an adorable tiny 'aha!' and marched over her own bed, smiling proudly. <br/><br/>“I guess it's the kind of gift that only a <em>nerd</em> like you'd enjoy, but... I hereby dubbeth thee, Lady Yuri.” <br/><br/>Part of her had always thought she'd look – pleasant in a crown of flowers, a laurel wreath. Something that said, here is a woman with quiet dignity. A woman who raged against injustice, who was known; an intelligent woman, fair and strong. <br/><br/>The slightly forlorn fast-food crown was not a laurel wreath. It was commercial, and cheap, and trite. <br/><br/>In the moment, it meant so much more. <br/><br/>They laughed, and laughed, and laughed. <br/>Natsuki just couldn't stop smiling, rolling around on her bed and – talking a mile a minute, so much so that it was impossible for Yuri to keep up. <br/><br/>And that was just first (and most of the second) night. <br/><br/>On the third night, after they'd returned from school... Returned from a school where <em>nobody knew</em> they were alone together..! <br/><br/>Natsuki had suddenly interpolated herself in-between Yuri and the entryway, her eyes <em>sparkling.</em> <br/><br/>“Yuri. Oh, wow, I just realised... D'you wanna, you know, finally become a woman?” <br/><br/>“That sounds suspicious. I'm already a fine woman, probably...” <br/><br/>“Why'd ya go and add 'probably?!' Dummy! Have more confidence! Anyway, it's not that, it's <em>that!</em> Let's play some games! C'mon, play with me..!” <br/><br/>She had a heart of ice; Yuri felt the only thing more droll than television were prepackaged media experiences with foregone conclusions. Never did the characters in such trifles say what she would have said, do what she might have done, or look as – striking as she wished she looked. <br/><br/>But Natsuki, in this particular moment, was practically <em>hovering</em> in place. Her hands were tiny fists, held mid-air for no real reason other than <em>excitement</em> and, well... <br/><br/>“Fine. I <em>suppose</em> I can indulge your terrible, childish tastes.” <br/><br/>Maybe she was even a little excited, too. <br/><br/>The old computer in Natsuki's room was – hmn. Yuri's own computer was old because all she cared about were newsrooms, bulletin boards (most of which had died) and e-mail. Word-processing too, when she didn't feel like.. Writing her poems or feelings out, and consigning them to a reality of paper. <br/><br/>But Natsuki's computer had been old ten, maybe twenty years ago. The bright colours were slightly pixelated, everything was slightly pixelated, and honestly? It was a bit – charming. <br/><br/>“Okay, okay. You choose first, oh, wow, this is – forgive me, Yuri, I'm <em>way</em> too excited about this.” <br/><br/>Natsuki didn't even try to hide her smirk, gesturing to the keyboard with a mocking bow. Yuri shrugged, stretched, and selected one of the programs in the corner, solely for the title. <br/><br/>“Sorry, that one's shareware. I mean, you can play it, but it'll – stop after awhile.” <br/><br/>“Share... Ware? Nevermind. The title alone stole my heart. Let's see how this heretic handles...” <br/><br/><em> it was as if a magic spell had been cast. the game might have been considered gory, once. it was almost comical, now; a barrage of forgotten garbage fantasy, left to moulder and pretend that it was dark. also, the music incorporated guitar shreds, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. <br/><br/>but. the game itself. <br/><br/>time flew, and she could feel the weight of natsuki's stare as she punched demon after demon after cultist after cultist to death, stabbed and shot and cursed and </em> <br/><br/>“Okay, yeah, I think you should take a break,Yuri.” <br/><br/>“Sorry. <em>Whew!</em> That was... Invigorating...” <br/><br/>“Right?! I'm – I've never really liked that one, actually. It was part of a bundle, sorry I didn't pay for the whole thing, I never thought – you know, I mean, that there'd be... Anyway. Scooch!” <br/><br/>“No.” <br/><br/>'Huh?' mouthed Natsuki, raising a thin eyebrow. Yuri didn't entirely want to spell it out, but – it was fine, if... This once, she didn't mind... <br/><br/>First, she patted at the chair. Natsuki – could apparently be a little oblivious, so she patted at it again, then growled, then irritably swatted at her lap. The 'huh' that Natsuki was muttering morphed into an ' <em>oOOooo</em>' and that was – a little rewarding on its own, as... <br/><br/>Natsuki's face was a mesh of red as she sat down in Yuri's lap. And it was a bit awkward; the chair creaked in protest, but held. On the other hand... <br/><br/>“I, er, hmn, you can actually get up – “ <br/><br/>Yuri laughed, as villainous as the protagonist of the previous game had been, probably. <br/>(Those poor little demons...) <br/><br/>“Mmn. I think not... So, uh... This is the part where you – <em>show</em> me how to play, right? Please lean back as you – please. I'll watch ever-so-intently.” <br/><br/>“Jackass...” <br/><br/>Muttered Natsuki, but it was a <em>happy</em> mutter. <br/>And she did – lay back a bit. <br/><br/>What Natsuki selected was another ancient program that probably wouldn't have even run on anything Yuri owned. It was – strange. The goal was to protect a bunch of bizarre, malformed blue things with no real humanoid traits as they fled to a new land. You could sacrifice them to learn more about the challenges you faced, but... <br/><br/>Natsuki was intent on saving everyone. <br/><br/>She rapidly stopped speaking, focused only on the – foolish looking blue creatures. They weren't especially cute, or memorable, and Yuri wasn't entirely sure they were even worth the effort, especially because the challenges – or puzzles – that the player was presented with seemed... Rather brutal, even unfair. <br/><br/>And still, Natsuki grit her teeth every time she let one down. <br/><br/>“They don't even die.” <br/><br/>Yuri begin, hesitantly. And it was true; they just returned back to their original home, with the hope you'd lead them forward again in the future. <br/><br/>“Don't care. I mean – nobody remembers this, probably. 'Cept me. So, I feel like – Wouldn't it be nice if somebody cared about them? Even if they're just personality-less blue blobs, nobody should feel – “ <br/><br/>“Fine, I understand. Let's – try to solve these together, then...” <br/><br/>Over the course of days, they lead the pointless blue creatures home. <br/>It wasn't entirely rewarding, or wouldn't have been if she cared about the game at all. <br/>But Natsuki – kept staring back at her, shifting in place against her. <br/><br/>And she might have been smaller, but she cast a tall shadow. <br/><br/>When they'd finished it, Natsuki tried to share so many other games with her, but she only had so much time for <em>games,</em> when there were other games she'd rather play; and if they played games at all, there was no real need to name them. <br/><br/>The day after that, she'd awoken to stare at the ceiling, and felt she understood it a little bitter. <br/>Her hand held towards it, she'd almost jumped when she'd heard Natsuki's quiet laughter. <br/><br/>“Do you – always do that, when you wake up?” <br/><br/>“... I don't know. I've spent a lot of time – thinking about the way the lines on the roof...” <br/><br/>“Wow. You really were lonely, huh?” <br/><br/>“I'm not sure.” <br/><br/>Natsuki had already dressed, and was fiddling with clothes – fiddling, by which Yuri meant something between <em>mending </em>and <em>making.</em> <br/><br/>“Awwww, don't stare so much! I'll blush. Or is it that you just wake up hungry, and I've found myself in a real pickle, here...” <br/><br/>“I'm all right. Maybe I should – make you breakfast.” <br/><br/>“Can you?!” <br/><br/>“Er, well...” <br/><br/>“Anyway, forget that. You can surprise me, later. This is just – you seriously didn't notice how much of my own clothing I've tweaked, huh? Man, you're practically blind, Yuri!” <br/><br/>But Natsuki said it quite proudly, pausing to place the jacket down against the floor. <br/><br/>This particular morning, she'd worn a vivid red shirt, with sleeves far too long. They'd been drawn in at the ends, making it seem especially liquid and ethereal, even if it did make – Natsuki look even smaller. Her overalls, however, were especially... <br/><br/>“You really are – “ <br/><br/>“If you say cute, I'll deck you. <br/><br/>“Beautiful.” <br/><br/>“... Oh.” <br/><br/>Natsuki didn't say anything else, after that. <br/>Yuri took her time getting dressed, and thought about making something for breakfast but knew that was a different kind of bravery she didn't have, just yet. <br/><br/>Instead, they spent the rest of the day inside; a peaceful day without school, or clubs, or thoughts outside of anything but two people, watching one another. <br/><br/>And she – stared, constantly. <br/><br/>She knew she did. <br/><br/>But it was a side of Natsuki she'd never seen, and only guessed at, at best. A quiet, incredibly focused young woman who spent a great deal of time staring at unfolded construction paper, cutting thread and thinking things that she would not say aloud. <br/><br/>This young woman was different then the one she'd fallen in love with, but she loved her, as well. And perhaps that was greedy; to love multiple parts of the same person. It felt almost like it was too much, like she didn't deserve it. <br/><br/>But, a voice cautioned at the back of her mind – perhaps <em>they</em> did. <br/><br/>So, day after day faded peacefully in and out of existence, and if all the days of the rest of her life had been so gentle, it would've been more then she might have asked for. <br/><br/>Yet, she did not hate it as their gentleness became normal, and life itself intruded once again. <br/><br/>For she knew all too well the beauty of perishable things, and that just because peace must eventually give way to the progression of time meant nothing. Even if not a single day in the future were to be as dear, her memory had burnt every hour against her mind, votive offerings that shone brighter even as they ceased to be. <br/><br/>And - this once, for now, for this moment... <br/><br/>Nothing <em>had</em> ceased.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. XII. fuchsia of the east</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“C'mon, back it up, Sayori! Nonono! Forward! Backward! <em>Forward!</em>” <br/><br/>Natsuki was grasping at the sky as if her fists could tear down the heaven, while Sayori kept holding her hands to various chunks of the wall; pretending to frame pictures that weren't present. <br/><br/>As winter inexorably crept towards them, the literature club had become cosier and cosier, with mysterious blanket outcroppings having appeared from the emptiness as if by some kind of magic. And Yuri had found herself comfortable, but – with the strangest desire to try new things. <br/><br/>Which is why she'd suggested Natsuki try to set up a theoretical ambience for their last festival. <br/><br/>For the moment, Yuri had confined herself to catching up on the deep and interesting world of <em>Parfait Girls.</em> Well, <em>Parfait Girls: Sunday~Sundae,</em> to be precise, which was the correct translation of the title. A continuation of the main story, it followed the character of Alice as she struggled to balance her job as a flight attendant with her duty, fighting the evil minions of Queen Scone, who probably wasn't actually that evil... <br/><br/>Idly, she flipped the page flat, and stuck a bookmark in it. The bookmark was a faded white rabbit; Natsuki had given it to her, and said 'it was important' without further explanation. <br/><br/>Therefore, it was important. <br/><br/>“Mmn, you two... Please don't get into trouble.” <br/><br/>Sayori managed to wheel in place, even while groping for a new place to hang festive banners and streamers. Her eyes were <em>shining.</em> <br/><br/>“Trouble... Is my middle name! Ehehe, sorry, sorry... We're having fun though!” <br/><br/>“Speak for yourself. Yuri! I don't know how you deal with this, it's such a pain in the butt... And my butt hurts from sitting on your craft stuff, Sayori, so I'm feeling ready to butt heads with somebody!” <br/><br/>“Oh, no... Your butt...” <br/><br/>Begin Sayori, before thinking better of it, and choosing to focus on something abutted the task at hand, rather then dealt with pained flanks. <br/><br/>“I mean, it's not so bad. Since we still have plenty of time, I was even thinking of just sleeping on it, zzzz, and coming up with a few ideas tomorrow.” <br/><br/>“Hmn... That's not always a bad idea, but isn't it nicer to get something out of the way, and then sleep as much as you please?” <br/><br/>“But if I did that, I'd never stop sleeping!” <br/><br/>(Said Sayori with pride, smiling from behind shut eyes.) <br/><br/>“Well, it's a good thing that your sleep schedule is entirely theoretical, huh? You can't leave this room until I've made it juuuuuuuuuust right. 'Cause, what says 'lovely book people who want you have fun with them' like lots and lots of soft colours, right?!” <br/><br/>Natsuki had been opposed to the idea – at first <br/>She'd protested it a lot more than Yuri had expected, possibly because... <br/><br/>Even after it was clear that he wasn't going to stay back, occasionally Yuri would see a car driving by the neighbourhood, slowly. <br/>She'd left her shoes out on the front porch, so as to make a point; the car would idle, smoke belching, and leave. <br/><br/>It only happened once or twice, and yet Natsuki only barely put up the soft colours and things she loved most. And if she wouldn't feel comfortable doing that in her room... <br/><br/>After her initial protests, Natsuki had been incredibly excited about it, too. <br/>Yuri imagined it'd probably been the first time someone had said 'make the room just like one you'd like to visit, like you'd feel happy living in, so...' <br/><br/>She might have had ulterior motives, of course. <br/>Since she'd been – thinking about things, a lot. <br/><br/>Natsuki's ideal room, as it turned out, was not entirely as bright as Yuri had expected. All the colours were soft, and pastel, and had <em>deeply</em> pleased Sayori, but... <br/>They were a bit more muted, a bit more restrained. <br/><br/>And Natsuki had kept – glancing at her, biting her lip. <br/><br/>Perhaps love was about starting to wonder where you ended and another began, and perhaps that was even a little frightening. She – didn't hate, fear like that... <br/><br/>“Stop sweatin', Yuri! Between us two badasses, we're gonna have this classroom feeling like... Like a...” <br/><br/>Natsuki struggled with her words for a minute, her eyebrows affixed to one another. <br/><br/>“Uh. Crap... Sayori?” <br/><br/>“It's gonna be really sweet. I keep looking over everything we've done, and wondering – is this really about literature, anymore... Then I think about it just a bit more, and I guess I don't care if it is. Even if nobody visits, I'm really happy with – oooooOooooo, let's add fairy lights!” <br/><br/>That was what it had boiled down to, and Yuri couldn't help but smile as she returned to <em>Parfait Girls.</em> <br/><br/>Honestly, it <em>wasn't</em> the sort of thing she would've enjoyed on her own. When Natsuki had gotten sad one day, she'd joked about watching the 'shitty <em>Parfait Girls </em>anime adaptation that nobody likes, until I vomit up stars' or... Something like that. <br/><br/>And when they'd done just that, Yuri had (of course) loved how absolutely stupid the sense of humour was, and – that'd ended up making Natsuki feel better, for some reason, even if it turned out later that the reason for her sorrow was a particularly nasty case of the flu. <br/><br/>But even though it wasn't the first manga she'd read, or the one she liked best... <br/><br/>You could see so much in the sort of characters people loved most, in books. <br/><br/>Natsuki hadn't read <em>The Stranger,</em> yet. She – got ahead of words, sometimes, when she was reading by herself, and it frustrated her and embarrassed her, terribly. And – Yuri'd had the idea, a terribly stupid idea... <br/><br/>And so they'd started reading together; and it hadn't been terrible or stupid, at all. <br/><br/>Regardless, Natsuki hadn't read <em>The Stranger.</em> She didn't care about Mssr. Mersault, Mssr. Camus and his intent as an author, or the illusions of moments frozen in time. She had <em>cared,</em> however; she cared deeply that it meant something to Yuri. <br/><br/>The – idea of that was so strange, so alien to how she'd imagined relationships working as a girl. <br/><br/>But it meant something, something <em>beautiful.</em> <br/>And she – did rather think that Natsuki would like, nice, so... <br/><br/>But the point, as she watched them string up rows of soft green and pink lights, was that just as Yuri could relate deeply to her favourite characters and themes, so too could she see how much Natsuki valued what she'd been trying to share, with someone, with <em>anyone</em>, for so long. <br/><br/>Minori was not like Natsuki, not visibly. <br/><br/>She was a bit of an airhead, and a crybaby; and her tears were big and heartful and constant, not like the restrained heaving that finally gave way to that – terrible, defeated, self-hating anger that Natsuki felt whenever she was forced to admit she was <em>sad.</em> <br/><br/>And she was always trying new things, no matter how bad things got! <br/>Which got her into trouble a lot, but she kept trying, no matter what! <br/><br/>Her smiles and jokes and the fact that she never stopped being a hero, even if her friends let her down... <br/><br/>Yuri felt there might be a <em>few</em> connections between the two of them, actually. <br/>Natsuki was staring up at the fairy lights with an unreadable expression, the gentle thrum of green lighting flowing down against her, and casting a soft green halo against her feet. <br/><br/>It wasn't just the similarities that made characters, though; it was what you saw, and what you wanted to see in yourself. What you hated and wanted to remove; the things that made you laugh, that maybe you didn't want others to know that you laughed at... <br/><br/>And the things that you absolutely wished that they knew that you <em>did.</em> <br/><br/>“Man... I – I guess I made this happen, huh...” <br/><br/>Natsuki mumbled, kicking one foot against the other. <br/>She didn't seem certain about what she was feeling, only that it was new. <br/><br/>Yuri wanted to interrupt, but said nothing. <br/><br/>“Ehehe, I think we all did it. But I don't think... It would've been anything at all like this if you weren't here, Natsuki. Look how cute our club is!” <br/><br/>Cute was one of those words that meant different things to different people. <br/>When Yuri said it, or had said it in a prior life, she often had a dagger rolled up her sleeve, and perched under her tongue. Cute could mean diminutive, weak; a nice try, but that was about it. <br/><br/>And cute could also mean safe, and soft, and warm. Gentle, and good, and kind. <br/>Welcoming. For <em>us.</em> A place where <em>we</em> can be who <em> we</em> are. <br/><br/>“I, I dunno about that, I mean, you're the one who came up with the fairy lights!” <br/><br/>“But would I, if you weren't here... Unfortunately, Sayori is uncertain! Whirling on her dainty feet, she prances up to Yuri! Yuri, looking thoughtful, is zoning out. Yuri! (Says Sayori, quietly!) Is everything okay?” <br/><br/>“... Mmn?” <br/><br/>Yuri mumbled, blinking a few times. Her hair had grown back quickly, because it always did; it was wild and unkempt no matter how much she cared for it, because her soul was wild and unkempt... <br/>Perhaps. <br/><br/>“Oh no! (The hero, Sayori, says!) Even though Yuri is so... Elegant, and... Striking, when she's looking off into space... <em>Her brain has been eaten!</em>” <br/><br/>“It... It has?!” <br/><br/>Squeaked Yuri in surprise, and two other girls were <em>roaring </em>with laughter. She – hadn't bought it for a moment, of course, but she'd been <em>lost</em> in <em>thought</em> and how <em>terribly rude!</em> <br/><br/>“Ehehehe, that's right, Yuri. You would've normally said something like... 'Sayori. Don't talk about yourself in the third person. It doesn't suit you... Since you're....... So, pleasant, when you...'” <br/><br/>Hiding behind her own hair as Sayori's hidden merciless side took shot after shot at her, Yuri growled, but it was the whimper of a somewhat mange-ridden dog, and not a proud wolf. Perhaps, not even a less-than-proud wolf... <br/><br/>“Give her some credit, Sayori. Yuri's probably just bummed she can't spray fancy smelly stuff everywhere! O – my house smells like orange blossoms every day, now...” <br/><br/>She'd heard it. <br/><em>Our house.</em> <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>“I can't help that I like enhancing everywhere I go. I'm just... Very keen-eyed, when it comes to what makes an atmosphere work.” <br/><br/>“Which is why this humble Sayori thanks you for not dousing every inch of the classroom in smelling salts and incense. Why, what'd happen if it turned out Monika was allergic to some sort of fragrant incense, and you sent her to the hospital – and we all had to gather around, and it was up to me to figure out what came next – “ <br/><br/>“Hey, hey, why do you always get to be the one that calls the shots?! I feel like bringing baked goods is worth at least one vice-presidency!” <br/><br/>“Ehehe, maybe... On that note, uh...” <br/><br/>“<em>Ta-daa!</em>” <br/><br/>Getting to watch somebody do something they loved was a selfish thrill, too. And she'd wondered in the past if – maybe it was, because of how she saw people – if most people didn't feel the same, just were terribly <em>bored</em> with the hobbies of others, and <em>angry</em> when their lovers tried to share in their own hobby. <br/><br/>For Yuri, every time Natsuki crept into the kitchen and just – sat amongst old recipe collections and torn magazine clippings, looking thoughtful... <br/><br/>It was like watching the start of something sacred. <br/><br/>And then the house would be filled with the scent of dough, or rising bread; of common and c heap spices stretched to their absolute limit by one girl's determination, as they took the forms of small animals, brightly coloured houses, or delicate cakes. <br/><br/>Today, Natsuki had brought simple short-bread cookies, decorated in plain colours... <br/><br/>But the darkest purple frosting had tiny lavender buds crushed in, mixed with black tea. The simple pink cookies had a soft floral scent that Natsuki had just smiled at, when asked about, and <em>refused to reveal.</em> <br/><br/>Their mystery was terribly nostalgic, and – sad, somehow, and Yuri had privately made a goal to steal away as many as possible. <br/><br/>And there were orange cookies that had been clearly inspired by the potpourri she'd made, filled with a sweat and savoury marmalade that was delicious, filling, and heart-warming, little green cookies with tiny shining sprinkles, cookies as blue as the open sky – <br/><br/>It was interesting that Natsuki hadn't chosen to cut them in the shapes of cats, or some other animals. <br/><br/>Maybe it was the way she'd bitten one of the heads apart so cheerfully, Yuri wondered, as she reached for a cookie – and felt her hand swatted away. <br/><br/>“Uh-uh-uh! You've gotta wait for Monika, and... Hey, Sayori, where'd that guy get off to?” <br/><br/>“Getting stuff. I'm sworn to secrecy! It's gonna be really great, so you can't even try to ask me about it!”</p><p>Those were the words of someone who absolutely <em>terribly</em> wanted you to ask about it, so that she could spill the beans and tell you all her secrets. <br/><br/>Yuri coughed, and brushed her hair back. <br/>She might have smirked, just a bit. <br/><br/>“Oh, how lovely... I suppose we'll wait, then.” <br/><br/>“YuuuuuuuuriiIiiiiii! Aren't you even a little curious?” <br/><br/>“Naturally. But... It's kind of fun having so many surprises. I – look forward to every day with you all, so...” <br/><br/>She hadn't meant to say it quite like that, but it was true. Things had changed, and she was changed, and a simple sentence that would have been impossible to put into words became something that stole out on its own. <br/><br/>“I'm glad...” <br/><br/>With a smile so brief, so fragile it might have been wrong to call it a smile, Sayori clasped her hands to her chest. <br/><br/>“And I think you'll have just as much fun, being surprised. Just like this weather has surprised me!” <br/><br/>“You didn't expect it to be so rainy?” <br/><br/>Natsuki interjected, hesitantly opening up a shuttered window. <br/>Outside, the warm rains of autumn had been replaced by the cold rains of an early winter; the sort of rain that never risks being transformed into snow, but through it's own terrible alchemy makes you regret spending a moment outside. <br/><br/>She shut the window after watching the patter of raindrops, with only a slight grumble. <br/><br/>“Ehehe, I'd kind of hoped we'd have some snow. I'd wanted to have at least one good snowball fight before – heading off.” <br/><br/>“France though! It's <em>France!</em>” <br/><br/>Her earlier hesitation having been replaced by boundless excitement, Natsuki leapt to her feet, eyes shining. <br/><br/>“Think about it, all the fancy cafes, all the little shoppes and ancient city corners...” <br/><br/>“You know, France isn't just a collection of fairytales, Natsuki. And I don't know if I'll have a lot of time to spend looking into fun things like that...” <br/><br/>Sayori pulled up a seat at the table, and Natsuki followed her; three young women shuffled cookies between them, as Sayori's expression hovered in a strange and unknowable land; one where nobody might ever truly be able to go. <br/><br/>“... And I don't know if it's something I'm even excited about, either. But I also feel – good about it. Just not a 'happy' kind of good. A sad, wistful kind of good, that ends up feeling like the last cookie left.” <br/><br/>“Well – you can always come back,” <br/><br/>Yuri offered, uncertain how to respond when Sayori's good cheer returned – but with a <em>laugh.</em> <br/><br/>“Goodness, Yuri, I don't know if I'd wanna live here, forever. As scared... Unhappy? No... Okay, as uncertain as I am about everything, sometimes you have to go on and get out of your comfort zone. Even when you – don't want to do anything, really.” <br/><br/>“Mmn.” <br/><br/>Natsuki coughed, putting a half-bitten cookie on a small paper napkin. <br/><br/>“Even you've come so far, Yuri. I don't know if I could've imagined the three of us just talking so candidly, right?” <br/><br/>“Didn't we – though..?” <br/><br/>Three young women sat in silent thought. <br/>And Yuri felt like she could recall similar conversations and similar resolves; but the sharp edges of her mind were unresponsive, lured to sleep by soporific rain and the pleasures of good company. <br/><br/>“A, anyway! Even if we did, moving forward is a good thing. Even when it hurts! It's just like – “ <br/><br/>“It's just like Parfait Schnapps says; <em>You can't take a step forward by falling backward!”</em> <br/><br/>“Yuri. I cannot <em>believe</em> you would usurp the sacred bonds of friendship that is <em>Parfait Girls</em> from me. I take it all back! You can fall backwards all you want!” <br/><br/>When a threat is delivered from behind a broad grin, it is incredibly hard to take it seriously. <br/>Which was odd; some of her favourite threats had been delivered from behind a smile, but – so it was, as a certain fellow might say... <br/><br/>“Good mornin... Er, after... Hello, dearest clubmembers!” <br/><br/>“Ms. President! I hope you're okay. We were starting to get worried!” <br/><br/>Sayori appeared genuinely concerned, but Monika seemed to ward it off with a smile that was as much a magical spell as a physical gesture. All it took was her confident grin, a look at her perfect teeth, her hand against her hip... <br/><br/>And you just knew she was fine. <br/><br/>... Probably. <br/><br/>“I tried hard to net us a larger room for the festival, but would you believe the Traditional Gaming Club wouldn't give up the gymnasium? What a bunch of tools!.. It's not like anybody's even gonna visit <em>their</em> club, is it..?” <br/><br/>Her darkened green eyes weren't quite shut, and Monika lingered on those last few words, before clapping her hands. <br/><br/>“Okay, everyone! I hope you – oh, or those cookies?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, I tried to fight these two barbarians off, but they just kept stuffing them into their mouths and laughing! I was overwhelmed!” <br/><br/>“Guilty as charged!” <br/><br/>Laughed Sayori, puffing up her cheeks. <br/>Yuri felt like joining in, but – something had stuck with her. <br/>An idea, small and unformed. <br/><br/>For a few seconds, Monika had looked – terribly small. It had reminded Yuri of a feeling that wasn't so distant she could forget it, and it didn't feel <em>right,</em> seeing their fearless leader, who was – perfect, in every way... <br/><br/>The idea burrowed down deep, as ideas sometimes do; and for the moment, she let it rest. <br/><br/>“Hey, all. Brought the secret weapons, Sayori.” <br/><br/>“Ooh, oh, I can't believe it..!” <br/><br/>Yuri glanced at what he was carrying; an old cardboard box, filled to the brim with somewhat shabby paperbacks, the odd hardback tome, and several volumes of manga. There were even postcards and prints, a few song lyrics... <br/><br/>“So uh, Sayori and I were thinking, what if there are people that come in, and have never <em>had</em> a favourite book, or poem? Have never really – even imagined they could? So, she – “ <br/><br/>“<em>We</em> came up with the idea of having some aids on hand. So that people could come home to a good book, maybe for the first time..!” <br/><br/>To say that Sayori had gone from pensive and melancholic to happiness would not be correct. <br/><br/>She had – clearly wanted something, a way to reach out to people who'd never had a literature club, and planned it in secret for some time. From the way she kept glancing at him, it was clear they'd talked about it a <em>lot,</em> and given how secrets had a tendency to disappear in the literature club... <br/><br/>“Wow.” <br/><br/>Monika's frown quickly hid itself, behind a flawless smile. <br/><br/>“Not even I would have thought of that. Haha, isn't that funny... I mean, it's a great idea, Sayori!~ I think there have to be a lot of people out there who see how intimidating a full novel can be, or develop a learned hatred from in-class readings. Being able to make them feel like they've met an old friend is exactly what our literature club is all about!~” <br/><br/>She and Natsuki exchanged glances. <br/>Yuri couldn't tell what had changed. Monika didn't feel like she was lying, exactly, but there was a – weakness in her words, something that felt off. <br/><br/>Maybe, a little – retreating. <br/><br/>“Uhmn... Monika, you know... I'm just a member, of course, but – would you like to weigh in on the ambience we've been putting together so far? If – Natsuki is fine with that, of course?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, for sure, go right ahead! I mean, I'm <em>beat</em> from rushing my ass all around the room trying to make it pretty. It helped me develop a fine sense of how tough Yuri's job is! Actually giving a heck about what people want is <em>tough!</em>” <br/><br/>Her laughter was healing. Laughing together <em>with</em> her was healing. <br/>But, there was one downside – as they'd started joking around, and interacting... <br/><br/>Monika's expression had only fallen, a bit further. <br/><br/>“That's – really sweet of you two. I mean!~ It sure is nice to see some of our beloved club members getting along so well!” <br/><br/>“Well, we wouldn't even have had the chance if you didn't pester us back in here!” <br/><br/>Natsuki said, with a cheery smile. <br/><br/>And Monika's face darkened, her normally unassailable green eyes clouded behind her brown bangs. <br/><br/>“Really? Are you – sure, about that...” <br/><br/>“Hey, Monika – it's... Did I do something...” <br/><br/>But Natsuki's tone faltered, and trailed off. <br/>Monika sighed, sat down in the chair she liked best, and rested her head against her hands. <br/><br/>“It's not you guys. Guess I'm just a little – today, I feel like a third wheel.” <br/><br/>There was clearly more to it then that, but before Yuri had been able to seize the idea that had taken hold earlier, Monika raised her head and smiled, all the energy from before having just been – banished somewhere, like she'd erased it entirely. <br/><br/>“Sorry, sorry!~ I didn't meant to detract from your great idea, Sayori, or – anything cute happening in this particular room.” <br/><br/>“W, whaddya mean by that!?” <br/><br/>“H<em>mmmmmmm</em>n! Who knows, Natsuki? Maybe I'm just a fan of the nice fairy lights you put up..?~” <br/><br/>The rest of the day was peaceful. Monika spent it touring the room, acting shocked about everything they'd done and everything they'd planned. Sayori's friend was carefully sorting through the books he'd managed to beg from consignment rejects and library give-aways. <br/><br/>Sayori herself was – thoughtful. <br/>Every few minutes, she'd just watch Monika, looking for some secret betrayal of emotion that'd give away whatever it was that the president was feeling. And Sayori might well have been the most clever of the lot of them, but... <br/><br/>Monika was perfectly skilled at keeping to herself. <br/><br/>As for Natsuki... <br/><br/>“I guess I should've made more, huh?” <br/><br/>They'd started to clean up the room on their own; Yuri having taken an excuse to recharge with her the moment she'd seen it. It was – difficult for her to put herself in Monika's shoes, because the club president was so... Untouchable. Like she'd done everything worth doing, and returned to remind you that you might be able to do the same, some day. <br/><br/>But – then, perhaps that was it. <br/><br/>On their own, they'd created an incredibly beautiful room; a room that'd once been a classroom, now decorated with hand-written quotes and snippets of poems they'd drawn from all sorts of sources. And it was weird seeing the ones <em>she'd</em> chosen, falling from the walls in tiny streams of coloured paper and black ink, her somewhat spidery handwriting visible for anyone to see. <br/><br/>“I think you did just fine, Natsuki.” <br/><br/>“... Guess so, huh?” <br/><br/>Natsuki looked thoughtful, too; her usually bright eyes faded, and lost to an idea. An idea that they'd probably both thought about, once or twice... <br/><br/>“We should find something for her to do.” <br/><br/>Outside, the cold air had given itself away to a rainless night. Droplets of moisture still clung to your skin, however, and felt as if they bloom into colourless flowers – if the early winter storm decided to return, at least... <br/><br/>Smiling at her comment, Natsuki took Yuri's hand easily. Like they'd always done this much. It had become normal, and yet her skin always felt as if it were quietly burning, every time... <br/><br/>Yuri smiled, too. <br/><br/>“Tsch, you really are just a big softy! Anyway, I mean – she's already involved in <em>everything</em>? It's not like Monika isn't doing stuff, it's just... Ugh, I don't get it!” <br/><br/>Kicking the air dramatically, Natsuki laughed – a bit. <br/><br/>“Like, you can't – help somebody who doesn't want to be helped, right? And I don't really know what it is that we're not helping with.” <br/><br/>“... Don't look at me... Like I'm any smarter than you...” <br/><br/>“Hmmmn. <em>'Kay!</em> So, hey, didja finish <em> Parfait Girls: Sunday~Sundae!?” <br/><br/></em> “I did. And I have to admit, I thought the whole Minorin-becomes-a-pilot character arc was a bit... Trite.” <br/><br/>“As expected of your shitty taste!” <br/><br/>Perhaps the girl she'd been in the past had never imagined arguments being so important. Of being able to joke and work off stress that she would've kept bottled up inside, and maybe even <em>help</em> somebody else. <br/><br/>Maybe even – this might even have turned out to be better, then the dreams she'd had, so long ago... <br/><br/>“Oh, buzz off, asshole!” <br/><br/>Natsuki looked like she was about to shoot an even nastier gesture than her admittedly foul glare at a car that had been – <em>tailing</em> them, for a bit. <br/><br/>But this just happened in the country, sometimes, so Yuri smoothly interpolated herself between the offending digit and the pink-haired human-shaped rage orb, and all was well... Probably. <br/>The car had stopped, idling. <br/><br/>... After awhile, it followed them again, very slowly. <br/><br/>“Is that anyone we know?” <br/><br/>Yuri asked, as neutrally as possible. <br/>Natsuki just laughed, in reply. <br/><br/>“C'mon, my dad wouldn't drive a car that new. New-ish. It's just some asshole being an asshole. Probably likes Pynchon!” <br/><br/>“Very good, my pupil. We may make a scholar out of you, yet..!” <br/><br/>It was a very silly conversation; they were joking around, and she wasn't thinking about the future, or the things that she needed to do, or the parts of her that might be fixed, or any other number of things that lurked in the back of the mind. <br/><br/>And as they were walking down the long country road, occasionally followed by a very slow-driving car, it might well have been any two young women, in any town, at any time. <br/><br/>The road stretched out before them, and eventually the car idled or stopped at some destination. <br/><br/>Yuri's eyes knit in some half-memory, but quickly put it out of her mind as they passed under a small forested area that separated businesses and industry from the residential areas, and more specifically, the house she was – staying at. <br/><br/>It still felt alien, really. <br/><br/>Dark trees loomed overhead, wishing for snow; but the air only occasionally shook with rain and mist, nothing more. The faint sound of laughter whistled through the breeze, and she – didn't hate that Natsuki moved a step closer, but... <br/><br/>A few young men, maybe a little younger, maybe a little older, were smoking and drinking in a slight glade, leaning against a half-wall that'd once been meant to become part of a new road. <br/><br/>Their eyes drifted up, and one of them began calling out, but it was nothing she hadn't heard before. <br/><br/>“You really shouldn't put up with that shit.” <br/><br/>Natsuki glowered, but did nothing to escalate the situation. Her hand was very warm, and Yuri gave it a slight squeeze. <br/><br/>“I wouldn't worry about it. Don't look down at them. They can look up, all they want.” <br/><br/>Perhaps that wasn't the best way of dealing with things, but she'd finally found her way of dealing with it, and – were they, being followed..? <br/><br/>“Hey, hey, turn around and listen, bitch! He just said you had some great udders, aren't you gonna say something?” <br/><br/>She did not walk faster, even though she could tell Natsuki wanted to. <br/>They were just stupid, drunk young men; over time, they would lose interest, as stupid, drunk young men tended to do. <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>But the men, stupid or young or drunk, continued to wander after them, slowly. Mostly just joking and laughing amongst themselves, but clearly feeling entitled to a – conversation. <br/><br/>It wasn't difficult to ignore them as it was to not worry Natsuki, who had practically bound her teeth together, and was shaking very slightly. <br/><br/>And how funny the procession must have looked, two young women almost at the edge of a half-forest in the middle of the country, followed by a gaggle of young men, keeping their distance just far enough to avoid seeming too... <br/><br/>She'd thought they'd doubled back and away, and had almost breathed a sigh of relief until the rustle of trees ahead of them betrayed four men, who weren't very good at hiding. <br/><br/>Natsuki looked like she wanted to be angry, and that horrible mixture of embarrassment and shame and powerlessness... <br/><br/>Yuri stepped in front of her, without thinking. <br/><br/>“Uh, you two going anywhere?” <br/><br/>Began one, and his friends started laughing, making fun of him until he laughed – embarrassed and hating himself, too. He shut up, and a different face interpolated itself, standing inches away from her. <br/><br/>“Seriously, you walk pretty fast for having such a flabby chest. We're going to go karaoke, you could come along..?” <br/><br/>“I'm sorry. I... Love karaoke, but our father's a bit of a hardass. Maybe next time.” <br/><br/>At least she could lie smoothly like this, and for a brief moment? For a <em>fraction</em> of a second, it seemed like that would be enough, one of the men even mumbling something sympathetic. <br/><br/>Then they started saying some other things, and the comments were all easy enough to ignore, except one. It was just one word, and it wasn't even directed at her. And she'd wondered if she could even care at all, not so long ago, so it was <em>funny</em> how just one, single word, could... <br/><br/>He repeated it again, and they all laughed at Natsuki, who was staring at the ground intensely. The soft tufts of rosy hair covering her eyes made it impossible to tell what she was thinking. <br/><br/>She wasn't shaking, any more. <br/><br/>And, it was the worst punch Yuri had ever thrown, and the man who'd been laughing the most caught it easily, because she was all the things she said, but – even if the past were dead... <br/><br/><em>Time stopped.</em> <br/><br/><em> Her head slammed down into his. Another little virtue of being tall; and he fell to the forest floor, blood flowing from a broken nose, as her kick hit his gut. She felt a terrible and vicious pride that he'd hardly made a sound, and then – <br/><br/></em> Then reality returned; none of the men cared about either of them anymore, panicking and screaming about their 'bro' as he gurgled and tried to rub blood from his face; blood that she was disappointed at, staining her forehead. <br/><br/>She reached for Natsuki's hand, and perhaps the two of them could have just run if the floodlights of a car at the other end of the small forest didn't <em>burn</em> the night away, causing every single person to flinch, frozen in place. <br/><br/>A car door opened, with a bit of a struggle; the occupant whistling, quietly. <br/><br/>The 'bros' of the man she'd hit had fled, in the manner certain kinds of young men in the country know best; their loyalty aside, she helped him to his feet, even though she didn't want to even touch the bastard. <br/><br/>He looked – surprised, but grateful. <br/>And she hated his gratitude, but – but still... <br/><br/><em> for some reason, her skin crawled. she was sweating. it wasn't regret, she had done everything in accordance with her morals, and why was she – </em> <br/><br/>“Boys'll be boys, huh? Man, if it were me, I would've socked 'em one. You gotta get better guys. Weak guys like that, they just hold you back.” <br/><br/>The man who'd approached from the same damn car that had been following them before was shaped strangely; he had clearly recently bulked up, then lost some of that muscle and gained a slight paunch. He was still in decent shape, had an easy-going and confidently oblivious smile, and a neatly shaved head. <br/><br/><em>it shouldn't have been possible.</em></p><p>
  <em>he was too young to have been</em>
</p><p>
  <em>but, no</em>
</p><p>
  <em> she'd been held back <br/>why couldn't it be </em>
</p><p><em>no, no, </em> <em><strong>no</strong></em> <em> <br/><br/></em> “Nice night, huh? Well, guess you three'll be coming with the best Jr. Officer this town has. Haha, man, I wish I had some competition. I'd wipe 'em out. Oh, but I just can't believe this...” <br/><br/>He slapped his hand against his side, and laughed. <br/><br/>“Life sure is funny, isn't it, Yuri.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. XIII. moonflowers (a. junior officer gorou)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Snap.</em> <br/><br/>Despite the fact that the camera was probably something that had belonged to the previous officer, his father, Gorou took it for granted. It was older, and probably worth something to someone; he used it until he ran out of film, got frustrated, grumbled, and put it back in the shelf. <br/><br/><em>Snap, snap.</em> <br/><br/>And he kept on taking pictures, mostly of her; but she had long since outgrown anything he could do or say; and the more it went on the more frustrated he became, even as he rambled about this or that new interest of his, his new girl (who he wasn't even attracted to, always lookin' for something fresh), all of it. <br/><br/><em>Snap, snap, snap, snap, snap.</em> <br/><br/>But she was surprised how easy it was; and how for the first time, in the ugly snapshots of a young woman who's lips were downturned and whose eyes were terribly focused, the blood of another against her forehead... <br/><br/><em>Snap.</em> <br/><br/>For once, she liked who she <em>was.</em> <br/><br/>He kept jingling his keys from behind the bars, like it'd attract her attention. And he'd been terribly disappointed when the two of them – the young man, and herself – had both showed their utmost humility for disrupting the peace. <br/><br/>Grumbling about how boring the country was, and how he couldn't wait to get out of town, Gorou had left, and that was that. <br/><br/><em>in her head?</em></p><p><em> of course she wasn't sorry. a <strong>lady</strong> would have fucking moved in for the kill. <br/>... but... <br/><br/>perhaps she wasn't a 'lady', either. and by – getting incensed over something so foolish, it was possible she'd made things incredibly difficult for Natsuki. so it hadn't been hard to fall down, with her face and hair nearly to the floor, and beg forgiveness. <br/><br/></em> Natsuki had angrily demanded that she be present, to which – Gorou hadn't known how to react, apologizing with an oozing congeniality, the sort of sleaze which had – no effect on her girlfriend. <br/><br/>But he did have a badge, and apparently that meant something. <br/><br/>... She'd apologised in private to the young man. He'd been apologetic too, despite being the one with the broken nose. Because they'd 'only been out to have fun.' Because the prospect of this coming back was infinitely worse than a broken nose. <br/><br/>... Anyway, right now, they were uncomfortable allies, waiting for something as terrible as the passage of time. <br/><br/>Yuri knew in her heart Gorou would let them both out by dawn if nobody came; the holding station in town was cramped enough with the two of them. But she also – wasn't sure what Natsuki was doing right now, and worse still – <br/><br/>Prison is a time machine. The greatest terror of prison, no matter how temporary, is an ability to steal the passage of moments and hours. You start to wonder if it is winter, or spring, fall or summer. Whether the sun is high, or low. <br/><br/>A great manner of things, none of which can be proved, and all of which may be possible. <br/><br/>Halfway through her ruminations, a short middle-aged women with fair skin, a wide gut, and fluffy hair approached, shouting incriminations at the young man, who begin to apologise profusely. And he looked as if he meant it, eyes tearing up far more from any pain. <br/><br/>The middle-aged woman, satisfied with his response, turned to her. <br/>Yuri listened, bowed her head low, and promised to pay for anything that might come up.</p><p>She listened to the man's mother rant about order, about the wickedness of modern women, and many other things; her teeth sucking in air as if they were hollow. And the funniest thing is that she wanted to agree; if she weren't so... But she was. She <em>was.</em> <br/><br/>And so Yuri listened, accepted, and was almost glad things hadn't gone further – or was perhaps too tired to fight any further. <br/><br/>When they'd left, she was alone. And without any clue as to the passage of time, she wasn't sure when the sound came in, nor had she expected it. A slow, methodical tapping sound; familiar, as if from a distant dream, or a memory. <br/><br/>They stared at each other for some time, neither betraying their thoughts. Yuri broke the silence only because she could not bear it any further... Shutting her eyes, before they could betray her, too. <br/><br/>“... Hi, mom...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. XIII. moonflowers (b. kyoko)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Evening, ma'am. And might I say you have a <em>beautiful</em> daughter.” <br/><br/>“Thank you, Officer Gorou. I apologise for any inconveniences my daughter may have created.” <br/><br/>It was over as quickly as the exchange of pieces of paper, signed and notarised, destined to be forgotten. Gorou returned to putting his feet against his desk, her mother left the building without a second glance, and – cowed and with her head turned down, Yuri followed. <br/><br/>Outside, the stars were heavy in the sky, and she wanted to tear them all down. <br/><br/>Kyoko was standing outside a rented car, and she looked nothing at all like Yuri's memories, and perhaps that was the worst part of all. She was smaller, and thinner, and wanner; she'd developed a slight haunch, a slight gut, and her coppery dark hair was short and frayed and unkempt. <br/><br/>But there was still the person she'd known, standing before her. Her eyes were deep and thoughtful, her mother still wore her lipstick elegantly over cracked lips, and she still had a – slight, terribly slight smile. <br/><br/>“Guess everyone in this family has a record now, huh, kiddo...” <br/><br/>It was still her, and Yuri wanted to break down, but couldn't. <br/>She nodded, a little weakly, and got into the passenger's seat. <br/>Almost forgot to buckle up until her mother's piercing stare gave her a look of mild exasperation. <br/><br/>“Well, I – so.” <br/><br/>“Y, yes...” <br/><br/>They were driving, and she wasn't sure where. It wasn't h – Natsuki's house, she corrected herself. And it wasn't the place she normally inhabited, either. <br/><br/>Her mother was just driving to drive, the window open, focused intently on the empty roads ahead. <br/><br/>“So, Gorou seems to be doing well.” <br/><br/>“And I hope he chokes on it.” <br/><br/>Yuri froze up, realising how terrible that must have sounded, <em>especially </em>after her mother came all the way here for bail and an escort, <em>especially</em> as she only knew some of the details, <em>especially because</em> it must seem ungrateful, and yet... <br/><br/>Kyoko laughed, a little bitterly... <br/>But a little happily, as well. <br/><br/>“Gave up on becoming an elegant lady, huh?” <br/><br/>“Not entirely...” <br/><br/>“It's fine if, if you have. None of the ladies in this family have ever been elegant, anyhow. Much as your father says otherwise...” <br/><br/>“... Why now?” <br/><br/>“Your friend, Natsu, panicked pretty hard.” <br/><br/>“Natsuki.” <br/><br/>Corrected Yuri, and her mother shrugged, neither noticing nor caring. Her hand rubbed over the dry face of her skin, and Kyoko sighed. <br/><br/>“Well, Natsuki seemed to think there'd be something more significant to it then being locked up in a shitty country jail. I'm not sure how... Natsuki got access to our phone numbers, but your father was pretty surprised.” <br/><br/>The exhaustion, faded a bit; and her mother still had a fearless grin that might drive the heart of a young man to distraction. <br/><br/>“He called me, worried that you were in more trouble than you were. And I guess – hey.” <br/><br/>Snapping her fingers, Kyoko spun the car around with surprising skill. It was a rental, which meant she probably didn't value it very highly... Yuri felt a little sad for the sake of the car, but her mother just laughed. <br/><br/>“You must be pretty parched, huh? Let's go – get something to drink.” <br/><br/>“All right.” <br/><br/>Like magic, all the old roads of the country faded and died behind them. <br/>The city, which had seemed entirely impossible, a world beyond her reach... <br/><br/>Within fourty minutes, they were present, and Yuri felt as if something terrible had been shattered within her; something she could never reclaim, or dream about, ever again. Lights reflected off cold winter rain, fallen to the ground – and they drove in silence. <br/><br/>“<em>Mom...</em>” <br/><br/>She grumbled, and her mother laughed again – a little happier. <br/><br/>“Oh, what, you don't like fast food? I guess you really did become – waitwait. Yes, a large soda, the fried chicken meal... Yuri, what do you – “ <br/><br/>“A large black coffee. No sweeteners, if you please.” <br/><br/>Her mother <em>howled</em> with laughter, and Yuri fought off a petulant blush, angry and humiliated, that had been cute on a girl years before. She wasn't a girl, however; and as funny as it was, and her pout might have been... <br/><br/>They drove on, returning to a drive that had no reason or destination. <br/><br/>Finally, Kyoko smiled – having not touched her food or drink. <br/>Occasionally, her brown eyes had been shifting from the road to Yuri, and perhaps she was seeing a person who wasn't there. <br/><br/>... But no child who had a parent they loved so terribly could resent that, even as she wished she could. <br/><br/>“So you've been... Cohabitating, huh?” <br/><br/>“Yes.” <br/><br/>“Ohoh, wow, I didn't expect you to just – mmn, well. As long as you're – happy with that, I guess! I can't say anything, since it'd be a bit hypocritical of me...” <br/><br/>Kyoko crossed the same city mile again, and seemed to see something she was looking for; wending the car through largely empty streets until they came to a neglected parking lot near a childrens' playground. <br/><br/>Sighing contently, her mother parked the car. The dull black surface reflected artificial light as the first motes of snow fell from above, and her mother nibbled at her food. <br/><br/>“I love Natsuki.” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered, and hated that she <em>doubted</em> herself, just a little. <br/>Could someone who had been so wrong claim to know what love was? And was her mother's – keen glance, was she thinking to herself... <br/><br/><em>Here is my daughter, <strong>a fool</strong>, once again..?</em> <br/><br/>But Kyoko, if she doubted it, said nothing. <br/><br/>And Yuri entertained the doubt, before denying it utterly – focusing instead on the snowfall outside. <br/>It was beautiful, the first of the winter frost, and – she had a few ideas on how to incorporate it into an ambience, when they – if this didn't disrupt too much... <br/><br/>So steadily was she trying to avoid her mother's glance that it took awhile for her to realise her mother was <em>crying.</em> <br/><br/>Hunched over the wheel, Kyoko didn't sob heartily, didn't cough large tears that demanded attention. Even her crying was weakened, only detectable by the faint wheeze of shoulders that had seemed impossibly broad as a little girl – and Yuri knew no way to comfort her. <br/><br/>Confuse, an ugly beast tried to wind herself around a sobbing mother; but beasts only know how to kill and fight. <br/><br/>Dark hair fell over them both as Yuri's hesitant fingertips found her mother's side, and her uneasy embrace lingered, while the snow continued to fall.</p><p>“I... I know it's my fault... How I just let this happen...” <br/><br/>All of this was undone. <br/>All the progress she'd made, how much stronger she'd become, all of it was pointless; her mother couldn't see that, couldn't care that the worst was over. <br/>All she could see was a young woman, a failure, whom she had failed in return. <br/><br/>Yuri wanted to howl; to run away, and retreat to a sorrow all her own. <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>“Maybe it is, but... So is the fact I never gave up. And... And... And I'm <em>here, now! </em>So please, if you feel that way... Show me the brave mom I looked up to most. So we can both – keep...” <br/><br/>Even though she trailed off, Yuri could just see it at the edge of her mother's mouth; a faint smile, so faint it might as well have been a line. With a sigh, she lay back in her chair – and took a long, petulant swig from her soda. <br/><br/>“Sorry. I just – never imagined you, being taller than me.” <br/><br/><em> there is no worse feeling than suddenly seeing someone who has been a lion in your mind <br/>an ideal of who you wanted to be </em></p><p>
  <em>torn down</em>
</p><p>“I... Did try to tell you and father I'd shot up, you know.” <br/><br/>“Yeah, I guess you did. So... Uh, your... School! S'right, how've you been?! I heard you've been – getting better grades, at least?” <br/><br/>“A – a little. I have a career in mind, too.” <br/><br/>“Hmmn, so I see – “ <br/><br/>“I couldn't have done it without her. Natsuki. And – and all my friends, I – “ <br/><br/>She'd never been able to fight it, when her skin got cool and clammy. Sweat felt like it was going to roll down her face and colonise her spine, but – her mother's face managed to repair itself, just a little. A rather... Perceptive smile, not entirely dissimilar from her daughter's, slid into place. <br/><br/>“You really <em>do</em> talk about her a lot. And... <em>She</em> certainly did talk about you, too, huh? Hmnnn... Well, it's not like any of our relationships have been – standard...” <br/><br/>“We didn't meet like this, mom. I didn't – mean to bash, that fellow... His had... He <em>got in the way.</em>” <br/><br/>And her tone had become a growl without even trying, and her mother burst into laughter again, though it wasn't entirely <em>happy.</em> <br/><br/>“You at least take after me, despite my best efforts. You know me and Takahashi – we met during the student protests, right?” <br/><br/>She fished around in a handbag that looked like it had seen better days, as snow gathered against the windshield. What she withdrew was a photo, one that had clearly been held onto for a great deal of time. <br/><br/>The photo was black and white, and taken awkwardly; almost certainly from a third party, as neither of her parents were in the image centre. And it wasn't taken <em>well</em>; it was a curiousity, one that would have held little value, except to people inside of it. <br/><br/>And Yuri could find her father, easily enough. His hands were up in the air, permanently struck out in self-defence, for a blow that was to come. <br/><br/><em>Another</em> blow, because his blood-spattered face, bruised, his glasses broken, was clearly visible. <br/><br/>It took her a little while longer to find her mother, and when she did... <br/><br/>Frozen in that same bleak world, her mother, wearing a dark jacket, and with hair that had to have been dyed – or more likely, <em>bleached.</em> It flowed down to her waist, much like Yuri's own, and... <br/>Most of all, she was frozen with a bandaged fist, stained with something that must have been dark red, fist shaken back for another blow. <br/><br/>“... Maybe we just can't be normal, in this family.” <br/><br/>Her mother said, and – with utmost care – took the photograph back, placing it carefully where it came from. <br/><br/>“But, you know. You were – so sincere, when you were a girl. About becoming a lady. And I thought – well, it doesn't matter, huh?” <br/><br/>“... Do you, want her... Back...” <br/><br/>Yuri's voice broke. <br/>Who <em>wouldn't</em> want that innocent girl, with her endlessly wide smile, to return? <br/>And what parent, wouldn't...” <br/><br/>“<em>Yeah.</em>” <br/><br/>The words still stung, and Yuri almost shut her eyes. <br/>Almost, but not quite. <br/><br/>“... But I'm very proud of the young woman here, with me. What you're – going through, that I couldn't help with... You're fighting hard against it, right?” <br/><br/>“I am.” <br/><br/>She answered quietly, but fiercely. <br/>Her mother stared out the window at fallen frost, face unreadable. Her tone was what Yuri remembered most, and had remained entirely the same. <br/><br/>“You're... Winning?” <br/><br/>“I <strong>am.</strong>” <br/><br/>And she wanted to roll her sleeves up, to show how <em>far</em> she'd come – but it would have made no sense, so all she had left to fight with was her <em>voice,</em> this promise that might mean nothing to her mother, but... <br/><br/>Laughing, Kyoko eased her head onto her palm, and stared at her – before sighing, and rubbing at her eyes. <br/><br/>“Well, for what it's worth, I can't say I'm proud of your decisions today, and I'll never... Forgive myself for not being there when you needed me. Us.” <br/><br/>“Are you and dad, still – “ <br/><br/>“We <em>are.</em>” <br/><br/>Growled Kyoko, and it was so <em>similar</em> to herself, Yuri laughed, <em>too.</em> <br/>Laughed – and then embraced her mother, tightly. <br/><br/>“So, uh – tell me about this Natsu kid. Natsuki. I'll try to listen and not judge you too much, so...” <br/><br/>They talked for hours, and the cold winter night was still dark when they wended their way back towards a house that no longer meant anything to Yuri, but still promised a warm bed and a place to retreat to, all the same. <br/><br/>“Do you... Want to come in...” <br/><br/>She'd asked, hesitantly. <br/>But even with all of the struggles she'd held, even back before things had improved – <br/>There was never a time she wouldn't have invited her mother in. <br/><br/>“Sorry, sprout. I know you probably resent me for it, but we're still fighting our battles, too. To – set things right.” <br/><br/>“I don't resent you. Not at all..!” <br/><br/>Yuri whispered, her hands clasped to her heart; and it hadn't always been true. <br/>But now, in this moment... <br/><br/>Her mother laughed quietly from the window, only catching the scooter parked nearby as she moved to roll the window up. She looked as if she wanted to say something – a fire burning for a moment, before she drew back. <br/><br/>But her words were still kind. <br/><br/>“Let's meet again, after you've graduated. All three of us. And even if – you feel differently in the morning... I'll remain proud, to be your mom.” <br/><br/>Yuri watched her go, waving and running into the dark even as the small rented car vanished. The falling snow was so light, and her head was light, too; and she wasn't sure if she felt happy or heartbroken; but she <em>felt,</em> and perhaps that was the most important thing of all. <br/><br/>She only realised as she <em>somehow</em> managed to work her way through the door's two locks that there was one thing she hadn't thought of... <br/><br/><em> Would it be possible to keep co-habitating with Natsuki, if she had a slight criminal record..? </em> <br/><br/>Uneasily, and unsure of where to proceed, she let herself drift off to an uneasy sleep. <br/>... Almost.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. XIII. moonflowers (c. and you were the sun)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Tong.</em> <br/><br/>It was an unusual sound, and at first she'd been certain she'd just fallen asleep in that dingy holding cell, and was still being photographed. But it was heavier, and yet underwhelming, and... <br/><br/>Bleary-eyed, Yuri tried to find a window to stare out of, yet there were no windows in her room. <br/><br/>Forced to navigate the dark and dusty house she'd left alone, she threw on a nightgown first – then thought better of it, and threw a jacket over a nightgown. If there were friends who would've laughed at that, well, they weren't here right now, so... <br/><br/>So... <br/><br/>Outside, a young woman with bright pink hair as bright as the blush on her face had a suitcase at her side, a handful of stones in her hand, and was making for another throw. <br/><br/>The stone caught in her hand, and tumbled to the ground. <br/><br/>“I... Natsuki...” <br/><br/>Croaked Yuri, trying to think of what to say. <br/>Natsuki placed her palm against the window and – without thinking – Yuri placed hers against the other side. <br/><br/>“Never thought I'd be in love with such a rebel. But, I suddenly had this weird thought – y'know, I... There's nothing for me, back at that place. And I thought, I thought... Well, a bunch of stupid stuff, but, that's me, I guess. Could you...” <br/><br/>And Yuri felt like she might faint; like she might fall to the ground while wearing a lavender nightgown, an overly grey coat that was entirely powerless against cold weather, and possibly <em>tears.</em> <br/><br/>“Don't faint on me now, I don't have any spare keys, Yur...” <br/><br/><em> She threw open the door. <br/><br/></em> When she'd finally let go of Natsuki, she didn't know what to say – only that she knew her smile right now was the one she'd wished so desperately she could so her mother, mere moments ago. <br/>The night was just starting to fade, outside – the beautiful darkness promising it would return, someday. <br/><br/>But for now? <br/><br/>As the first light of a snow-coloured dawn poured in, she welcomed Natsuki home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. XIV. rosa erubescens</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yuri awoke to the sensation that all of it had been a dream. <br/><br/>A terrible, beautiful dream that she should not have been allowed to have. One that only existed by playing at the edges of what <em>might</em> be possible, and nothing more than that. <br/><br/>Her room felt – strange. Smaller then it had. <br/><br/>Motes of dust filtered through the air, and she played at catching them – before rubbing the dust from her own eyes. How long had she slept..? <br/>Everything ached, and she needed to – a few moments... <br/><br/><em> When she stepped out of her room, the first thing she was aware of was the scent. </em> <br/><br/>Many of the authors she admired most had written of life and simple joy, but... It was an altogether different thing to read about and to experience. <br/><br/>The scent of rich and freshly baked bread, so alien after a lifetime spent on preprocessed meals and whatever was on sale at the convenience store, lured her forwards. Perhaps nobody can forget the first time they truly smell freshly baked bread, crisp and yet capable of falling apart in your fingertips.<br/><br/>But it was strong enough she almost missed the rest of it; the wood floor that no longer was coated with dust, smelled of dust, had been lost entirely to dust and retreat. <br/><br/>Corners that had been tidied, various things of hers – and, and not just <em>hers</em> – placed in them, as light filtered through the open window. Yuri paused as the light struck her eyes, and her fingers played with the fabric of her nightgown. <br/><br/>“Well, <em>goooooooooOood</em> morning to you! I never really imagined you... Lived in such a dump, so I kinda cleaned up a bit, you can thank me later – “ <br/><br/>Yuri sat down, her hair (having fully grown back to it's wild and untameable length) falling over her hands like a waterfall. <br/><br/>Natsuki, who had been pulling out a tray with only the corner of her smile visible, <em>immediately</em> put it to the side, and walked over – but quickly. Yuri wanted to say that it was fine, better than fine, explain why she was crying, but... <br/><br/>All the came out was a sad and weak warble. <br/><br/>Laughing, a little nervously, Natsuki wiped at her eyes. <br/><br/>“Geeze, I – didn't expect that kind of reaction. Was it 'cause I moved your stuff around? I hesitated, I'll have you know! I was gonna ask you first, I just got carried away!” <br/><br/>“It's all...” <br/><br/>Yuri mumbled, and then just hugged her. <br/>She smelled like flour, and Yuri decided that she loved the scent of it more than any fancy candle or fragrant incense. <br/><br/>“... You don't have to cling so much, I mean – we're gonna have to...” <br/><br/>Natsuki trailed off, and Yuri let her go. (Begrudgingly.) <br/>There was a complete breakfast on the table, one with eggs and sliced bread and little pancakes or, or, or <em>crepes</em> with smiling faces, and... <br/><br/>She really wanted to start crying again, but managed to fight it off. <br/><br/>“A, anyway, don't look so sad! You didn't have anything good in your house, I kinda – took some money, sorry, y'know, sorry...” <br/><br/>“It's <em><strong>fine.</strong></em>” <br/><br/>Yuri said, fiercely, (almost) hating the fact that she wanted to tear into the adorable smiling pancakes and devour them in their entirety, but... <br/><br/>Then again. <br/>She'd always had trouble, devouring the things she loved. <br/>... And perhaps that's why she was so capable of handling what came next. <br/><br/>“So.” <br/><br/>Natsuki begin, crossing and uncrossing her legs. <br/>She was still wearing yesterday's clothes, looking all the more radiant for it. She'd thrown an old kerchief or bandana over her head, and had clearly been – thinking of what to say, for some time. <br/><br/>But Yuri – didn't mind listening, so she <em>listened.</em> <br/><br/>“I was – so fucking happy that you stood up for me, but, that's – that happens, right? And I – I really think a lot about what it means to be a couple. With somebody you love. What that means, if it's – okay. Sorry if I'm rambling, I <em>need</em> to get this out.” <br/><br/>“Can I...” <br/><br/>“Please! I can't think <em>at all</em> on an empty stomach. Makes me grouchy!” <br/><br/>“Never would've... Guessed...” <br/><br/>Even through it all, even though she could tell Natsuki had – some serious matters on her mind, they could still laugh. She could pretend to sulk, listen to the satisfying crunch of freshly buttered bread, and treasure this memory. <br/><br/>Forever. <br/><br/>“But I – I feel like you really do... Get focused, you know? And what if you'd – really hurt that guy, or, or...” <br/><br/>“... Yeah.” <br/><br/>She couldn't say she regretted it. The way she saw things was – terrible, and brutal, and perhaps even <em>cruel.</em> But that was only part of who she was, and it did not have to be the part of her she let rule over her. <br/><br/>“Okay, good. I thought... I worried you might take it wrong, but I mean, I wouldn't have... Crashed your gross house if I was gonna, over that – “ <br/><br/>“I like that you're willing to admit that it's gross, but, somehow... You're still here.” <br/><br/>Yuri laughed, very quietly, and dodged a thrown pancake – surprising herself when she caught it, and put it (somewhat) daintily back on her plate. <br/><br/>Natsuki smiled, a bit. From the side of her face. <br/>She looked as if she'd had a lot to say, and suddenly didn't feel the need to say much, at all. <br/><br/>“... Anyway, uh... I... I really love you, that's all. But I can't stay here.” <br/><br/>“I know that. You'd be really weird to want to live in the country, huh...” <br/><br/>“The <em>weirdest!</em>” <br/><br/>Her smile reminded Yuri of the way that beautiful things inevitably drew to an ending, save that it was the reverse; with every second, it was as if that slight smile became stronger, promising that there was still something to come – to look forward to. <br/><br/>“But I – I don't want this to just, ugh, you know! So.” <br/><br/>“You should say it more dramatically. Like... 'Yuri... Wait for me!'” <br/><br/>“I ain't gonna say it like that!” <br/><br/>Perhaps that was truly all that needed to be said; for now, at least. There was still a lot more that Yuri <em>wanted</em> to say, but it all felt – immaterial. Like... <br/><br/>Like the dream of a young girl, who'd finally decided she didn't mind waking up. <br/><br/>“... A, anyway. You've got a nice smile, so don't go throwing it around so casually. 'Cause, sometimes, I get kinda jealous, and – “ <br/><br/>“<em>YOU </em>get jealous?!” <br/><br/>Bursting into laughter, Yuri almost doubled over her seat. <br/>Natsuki's tiny and intense glare was precious to her, and she wished she could've saved it, forever. <br/><br/>They ate in peace, Natsuki quietly moving from the front of an overly large table to take a seat near her when it was all finished. Yuri rose up, stretching, to go and do the dishes, but Natsuki grumbled and scowled. <br/><br/>“Leave them for just a bit, 'kay. I had an idea of how I wanted this to go – “ <br/><br/>“Now you know how I feel, hmn...” <br/><br/>“Yeah, so I do, so what!.. H, hehe...” <br/><br/>Kneeling down, Yuri embraced Natsuki tightly, mid-sentence. She waited there for sometime before the realisation hit her – <br/><br/>“Uhmn, let me go get... Dressed, I guess.” <br/><br/>“Well, I don't hate this!” <br/><br/>Said Natsuki with a cheeky smile, dodging a (clumsily thrown) chop from Yuri's hand as if it had been a light breeze. Then, her expression fell a bit. <br/><br/>“Do you normally, just... Wear stuff like this around the house? All the time?” <br/><br/>Not frilly nightgowns, she meant. <br/><em> How often do you just – wait here, wearing whatever it was you wore before, and sometimes not even that? </em> <br/><br/>It was easy for her to answer. <br/><br/>“For the last few months, no. It... Helped, to be... Around someone, I loved, so...” <br/><br/>“Y-yeah, whatever! Go put some clothes on, I'm gonna – varnish the wood or something – “ <br/><br/>She did just that, pausing a few times to glance over her shoulder at Natsuki. Her slight form was leaning back in the chair as if she'd always been present, and welcome. It was clear she hadn't stopped thinking, but... <br/><br/>That was good. <br/>She couldn't have imagined herself falling love with someone who did. <br/><br/>After having managed to find some track pants and a hooded sweatshirt that fit, Yuri bounded back down the stairs – <br/><br/>“What is this? <em>What is this?!</em>” <br/><br/>“I think you'll find it's <em>casual</em> elegance.” <br/><br/>“Uh-huh. You're telling me that some gothick heroine would adjust her petticoats and branded sportswear and be like, all right, time to absolutely wreck that Renfro guy, or whatever. <br/><br/>“Ren<em>field,</em> and I prefer the story of Carmilla.” <br/><br/>“Because she hates people who aren't as classy as her, is basically class-less, and is possessive and cruel to cute maidens, riiiight?” <br/><br/>“Mmn. Yes.” <br/><br/>Yuri knelt down, and was surprised to feel like <em>her</em> eyes were sparkling and full of life. Natsuki had gone quite red, and was stammering something about how it was good that there wasn't anyone cute in this household, aha, but – having stolen her price for Natsuki staying over, Yuri hummed to herself. <br/><br/>“Another victory... Is mine.” <br/><br/>“You're awful...” <br/><br/>Glumly muttered Natsuki, in the tone of someone who doesn't think anything was awful, at <em>all.</em> Her fingers snapped, and she nearly jumped out of her seat. <br/><br/>“Oh, wait – so... You're cool with me cooking for you every day?!” <br/><br/>“Why... Why wouldn't I...” <br/><br/>“I've just never had this much space to myself! Oh, oh wow, Yuri! Think about it! I wanna see if I can make, hrmn, you wanna try to make eclairs, later?! I mean – if you'd like, you could watch – “ <br/><br/>“... Honestly, I was... Hoping, you'd ask me.” <br/><br/>Yuri felt like her breath was going to freeze in her throat. <br/><br/>She didn't know where to begin. How to explain that so many years ago, she'd wanted nothing more than to be an excellent chef, and make – someone important to her smile. How she'd desperately wished that the day might come where that person wanted to treat her extravagantly, and how... <br/><br/>But this time, she didn't even have to focus on her breath. <br/><br/>“I would like that <em>very much.</em>” <br/><br/>Long fingers brushed back dark hair, and Yuri <em>knew</em> that her smile was as crooked as her heart was, but she <em>didn't care..!</em> <br/><br/>“Just don't expect me to be very good at it. I'll probably slow you down, a bit...” <br/><br/>“Great! That just gives me an excuse to get <em>even better,</em> right? And I mean – I kind of like the idea. Even messing up can be an excuse to learn, right? That you aren't just – doomed, to, y'know...” <br/><br/>She knew. <br/><br/>After they cleaned up the dishes, Yuri all but forced Natsuki to watch something really terrible; an old favourite of hers, the movie with the mushroom men and the deserted isle. Natsuki had pretended to be disgusted at first, but halfway through, had developed a very canny look, and when it had finished... <br/><br/>“Okay, don't laugh, but I think there's this cartoon you'd like.” <br/><br/>“Do you – happen to have it?” <br/><br/>“Pfff, of course not! But I mean, you <em>do</em> have internet, right? You're not a complete shutin?” <br/><br/>She did indeed, and her heart had pounded entirely too fast she led Natsuki up to her room. <br/>Still-bare feet knocked, one against the other, as she drew to a complete halt, Natsuki pretending to crash into her. <br/><br/>“C'mon, you aren't gonna be weird about this after – all of it, right..?” <br/><br/>“No. It's not that. Please don't laugh. Again! I'm asking you, I mean.” <br/><br/>Yuri bit her lip and shut her eyes, head swaying from side to side. When she opened them, Natsuki was mirroring her gesture in a mixture of disbelief and slight, smug good humour. <br/>Rolling her eyes and trying to push her bangs away, Yuri coughed. <br/><br/>“Just. I was thinking about – some of the stuff you'd left on your computer. And I – felt bad, you know, for the little blue people...” <br/><br/>“Awwwww, you're a big ol' softy! Huh, I wonder if Sayori was right – anyway, game data is usually pretty small. And check it out, Yuri... Not only can I set your gigantic <em>heart</em> at ease, all my school projects and dumb poems are forever protected, here!.. Er, wait, let me go show you.” <br/><br/>Natsuki ran down the hallway and Yuri only had half the mind to yell, crossly, that none of her poems were dumb (just ill-formed and childish!), only to return with a sheepish radiance shining like a halo. <br/><br/>“Bam! 1.44 MB of memory, and I've got like <em>hundreds</em> of 'em!” <br/><br/>Yuri clapped politely, though the jauntily-held diskettes Natsuki was holding... They were somehow familiar... <br/><br/>“I think my... Father had those, collected them I mean. Back when computing was still new?” <br/><br/>“Guh!” <br/><br/>Natsuki pretended to shudder, nearly dropped the disk, and carefully scooped it before it could hit the ground. <br/><br/>“You wound me, madame. Fortunately, all the crap you own is old, so your computer <em>probably</em> can read floppies, right?” <br/><br/>As ever, Natsuki was right. <br/>And she hadn't entirely expected the first conversation she'd properly had with a stranger in her bedroom to be about... Disk space and storage mediums, but... <br/><br/>It was a simple room. Dark, somewhat gloomy. Without windows, but with plenty of things she liked. Her collection, against the wall. A potted plant, which she'd been getting better about taking care of. Her favourite books, her... Bed... <br/><br/>“Stop sweating, Yuri. I'll start thinking you're thinking weird stuff!” <br/><br/>“I can't help it, you... Vandal...” <br/><br/>And it had been a long time since she felt truly safe <em>pouting,</em> too. Because that was petulant and childish, and admitting it was all right to feel petulant and childish meant admitting a great deal of other things that – suddenly didn't seem too hard to own up to. <br/><br/>Natsuki was fiddling with her computer, whistling to herself and clearly <em>overjoyed.</em> <br/><br/>“This is thrilling! What sort of private stuff am I going to wind up finding here, anyway?” <br/><br/>“Hordes of unwritten loveletters. They're terribly erotic, so don't bother looking.” <br/><br/>“Paah, nice one, Yuri – “ <br/><br/>“But, theoretical. What if I'm not joking?” <br/><br/>As her computer whirred and struggled to maintain a digital life, Natsuki paused. Eyes shut, her bandana slipping free, she looked lost in thought. No, she was <em>definitely</em> entertaining some kind of thoughts. Yuri stole her bandana and tucked it under the bed, for – safekeeping. <br/><br/>Or maybe just because having something of Natsuki's nearby made her feel safe. <br/>She didn't mind admitting it. <br/><br/>When Natsuki opened her eyes, their pale pink light was at once excoriating and entirely free of judgment. <br/><br/>“Nothing ventured, nothing gained! Here we go!” <br/><br/>(She seemed mildly disappointed that there were only a few unwritten loveletters, and their content may or may not have been erotic, depending on how one felt about 'whingy overwrought poetry.' But she read them, all the same, and it made Yuri terribly happy.) <br/><br/>“You realise that – this means...” <br/><br/>“I mean, we've already been living together for awhile, Yuri. It doesn't change <em>that </em>much.” <br/><br/>“No. It definitely does. If you want to go get – supplies for that outfit, later... We can do that. Whenever you want.” <br/><br/>“First; cosplay. Second... Second, I mean, can we – “ <br/><br/>“Mmn.” <br/><br/>Laying back on her bed, Yuri tried to look up at the ceiling, and find some clue or strength in the tiny patterns that repeated against the shapes therein. <br/><br/>But for whatever reason, nothing came to her at the moment; and that was fine, too. <br/><br/>“And if you wanted to... Go get some utter garbage from the rental store in the plaza, the one that still rents movies – “ <br/><br/>“OoooooOooo, and <em>anime!</em>” <br/><br/>“That <em>is</em> what I was getting at, yes. We could do that. Whenever. Not that I'd enjoy it in the slightest, but... With you, I might, a little.” <br/><br/>“Sure, but turnabout is fair play. I mean, I <em>suppose</em> I could stomach a sequel to the mushroom man island murders, or whatever it was called. If you wanted to, oh... Wait, wasn't I gonna show you something? Please exist... Yuri, could you update your browser – “ <br/><br/>“Don't wanna. I have it... Entirely how I like it, thank you.” <br/><br/>“Fine, just – sit here!” <br/><br/>Hmn. <br/>The reverse, sitting on Natsuki's lap, was rather pleasant, too. But... <br/>Natsuki had to keep peering over her shoulder and reach around for the keys, and it didn't seem very <em>comfortable,</em> so after a few moments, defeated, they shifted places. <br/><br/>Natsuki <em>did</em> find it, however, nearly vibrating with excitement as she did. <br/><br/>The story in question was a simple science fiction tale about a meteorite and the effect it had on the world as it was investigated by a brave reporter and his snow-white dog. Also a sea-captain, which Yuri felt was a bit much, and somehow <em>perfect.</em> <br/><br/>She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the ending, but – perhaps it made more sense in connection with the rest of the series... <br/><br/>Lying back against her, Natsuki turned her head up and smiled. <br/><br/>“I actually kind of like this one. It's definitely dated, but, as far as animation goes, you can kind of feel the influences, right?” <br/><br/>“The influences..?” <br/><br/>“Yeah, this is from Europe! Well, see, there's this whole tradition in print comics, ahaha, you're probably not interested...” <br/><br/>She was <em>terribly</em> interested, and listened for what felt like hours. <br/><br/>When her legs started to freeze up, she went back to her bed and curled against it, just watching Natsuki spinning in her chair and talking passionately about how there was a whole unknown world of comics that had been very popular, but were now mostly forgotten, except for a few big names... <br/><br/>Eventually, Natsuki trailed off, and realised Yuri was just watching <em>her.</em> <br/><br/>Her mouth opened, and shut, and opened and shut again. <br/>She laughed, very quietly, and then walked over to the bed – looking a little smaller than normal, and trying to hunch in on herself the way Yuri did. <br/><br/>She didn't have years of practise, however, and Yuri was secretly glad she was no good at it. <br/><br/>As Natsuki curled up beside her, they stared at the ceiling together and Yuri wondered for the thousandth time if this was right, if she wasn't going to – wake up, in a memory, from years prior, and regret even having dreamed about it. <br/><br/>“<em>Hey.</em>” <br/><br/>You never quite get used to someone else reaching for your fingers, or running theirs through your hair. <em>Pocket intimacies,</em> she decided; something not designed for the prying eyes of others, but hidden away, so common as to seem like they might grow tiresome, but... <br/><br/>There was no world in which she would ever grow tired of Natsuki, so close to her. <br/><br/>“I just – I was really scared, earlier. More scared than I've ever been, and I'm – scared a lot of the time, really.” <br/><br/>“Same here. Scared and angry... I suppose, that's our – band name, probably...” <br/><br/>“We've got a band?! News to me!.. But, uhmn...” <br/><br/>Natsuki bit her lip, and stared up at the ceiling – exhaled, then ran her fingers against her forehead, as if unsure of what to say next. <br/><br/>“Even if things – you know. If things don't work out. I just need you to know how important this is to me. That even if you want to stay in this tiny, dinky town forever, I just – yeah, that's it. Pretty much.” <br/><br/>“I doubt myself, frequently. About love.” <br/><br/>“...” <br/><br/>Despite her short build, Natsuki was still warm; and she clung desperately when she thought she could get away with it, and it felt good to have somebody clinging to <em>her.</em> <br/><br/>“Sometimes I wonder if I can even feel it, Natsuki. And yet, I love you.” <br/><br/>They were silent, in that darkened room that suddenly felt as if it had held windows, open up to a blue sky and all the sun of summer. And Natsuki yawned, and Yuri realised she'd been up for perhaps a day and a half, now. <br/><br/>Yuri watched, as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. <br/>And she held her close, until she woke up. <br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. XV. lily of the valley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spring had arrived, without honour or mercy. <br/><br/>All the brainstorming in the world couldn't properly prepare the literature club for what they'd unleashed; for, although their reduced festivities hadn't been designed to be as showy as their previous plans... <br/><br/>People had come, and left, all the same. <br/><br/>Yuri had realised she wasn't one for long-term cosplay long after the fifteenth or sixteenth parent-with-child had asked sheepishly for a Magical Tactician Pose (photo included), but it was like that with all of them. Perhaps people didn't truly understand the magic of literature, but... They certainly understood enough to have fun. <br/><br/>As Sayori's friend managed to wrangle the last visitors out, Yuri breathed an (inward) sigh of relief, and fell onto the table. This costume was hot; the spring rains had been hot; and she felt like her blood might be an ocean of sweat. <br/><br/>From across the table, Natsuki was absorbing the contents of a juice box with a look of mild contentment. <br/><br/>... Even though they'd suffered a lot, it had been wonderful. <br/><br/>Despite admitting to herself she probably wasn't a cosplayer, she'd truly enjoyed the shock and awe people felt as they recognised... Green, or whatever her name was. Natsuki had conveniently sewn in a cheatsheat of lines and phrases that had quite possibly <em>saved Yuri's life;</em> even without them, however, she'd had a tremendous amount of <em>fun,</em> too. <br/><br/>Flouncing around, making odd poses that felt a bit more in kin with some hammy televised mobster than a heroine of justice, welcoming people with a twirl of skirts... <br/><br/>Hmn. Well. She didn't hate it all, really... <br/><br/>Natsuki hadn't even <em>tried</em> to affect Mersault's world-weariness and general cynicism, and that somehow made her costume all the more perfect. The way she'd laugh heartily when people asked her if she was supposed to be a hitman was – charming, as was her general debonair way of replying. <br/><br/>And despite the fact that 'this was totally a one-time thing, which I'm doing for you, Yuri', she looked quite good in a darkened suit, and Yuri felt quietly good she'd gotten the chance to see it. <br/><br/>When asked about her character, Natsuki had invented a deep history of Mersault that had nothing to do with a murder in a sunlit land, despair at lack of human emotion (real or imagined), or even a certain kind of wine. So far, it'd involved:</p><ul>
<li>
<p>Being on the run from foreign mob bosses, desperate to catch her.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Having invented the New Neo Teppanyaki Pizza, a direct competitor to Neo Kobe Pizza.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Desperately on the run to catch mob bosses, who lived in permanent fear of her <em>fist.</em></p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Just a random salaryman, ma'am.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>Just a random salaryma'am, man.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>An assassin.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>A famous movie director, directing a movie about assassins that took place in a literature club.</p>
</li>
<li>
<p>... As portrayed by a short pink-haired girl in a suit, thank you very much.</p>
</li>
</ul><p><br/>Despite the fact that the backstory got more and more implausible as the day went on, it was worth it for every tiny glance that Natsuki shot her way. <br/><br/>To her right, Sayori was holding a small powered fan, and – for lack of a better word – luxuriating in it. Yuri had no clue who she was supposed to be, wearing a very simple blue-and-white dress, and a single tiny bell-shaped earring. <br/><br/>When she'd asked, curious, Sayori had only smiled a little bit and replied with: <br/><br/>“It's a secret, I guess. But you should let me know when you figure it out!” <br/><br/>And she'd seemed so very happy with herself, that Yuri had decided she absolutely would figure it out – when the heat had died down, and... <br/><br/>Oh; <em>he</em> was going as a famous boy detective. Or rather, a boy detective who'd turned into a young boy? Yuri hadn't the foggiest, but only knew that Natsuki had died and been reborn from the amount of times she'd laughed. <br/><br/>He didn't seem to mind though; he'd insisted it was because he liked solving mysteries, and fixing problems. <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>It was all right to feel this peaceful. <br/><br/>Right now, nobody was actually talking. The stress of the festivities had been over and met with, and mildly successful at that. Perhaps not as successful as a proper festival, detailing a love of literature that overwhelmed and consumed the audience, but... <br/><br/>People had come in, and had fun. Some had stopped to write poems, or talk excitedly about their favourite characters. <br/><br/>Not all of them had been able to think of characters from a book, a piece of poetry, or even manga. <br/><br/>Some had chosen a half-remembered blurry idealised version of a television character, or even – in one older man's case – a radio serial. And although in the past she might have looked down on that, and still couldn't quite claim to understand it... <br/><br/>All of it had been <em>good.</em> <br/><br/>Her dark hair collapsed around her as she collapsed onto the table, with a smile. <br/><br/>“Oh, no! Yuri's the first one down! With her out of the way, I can take everyone in this room for myself!” <br/><br/>Sayori announced, speaking into the fan. The wind distorted her words, and made it easy to laugh – carefreely, and without concern. <br/><br/>“Please do. I'm terribly tired, you know... I can't stop you...”<br/><br/>“Awwwww, don't give up so easily! You're a magical girl, everybody's hero! Natsuki is counting on you!” <br/><br/>“Speak for yourself. What I'm really counting on is Monika to return with those refreshments!” <br/><br/>Perhaps magical girls weren't supposed to glare at mysterious strangers, but they weren't really especially good at being magical or strange, were they..? <br/><br/>Rubbing at her forehead and sighing a content sigh, Sayori glanced out the window. <br/>How pleasant, the spring breeze had become... <br/><br/>“I can't believe this is the last hurrah of the literature club. I guess it makes sense that things come to an end, right?” <br/><br/>“Well, er... I don't know if they have to end, Sayori.” <br/><br/>He offered, while biting into a somewhat stale cracker. <br/>Most of the fresh goods they'd brought had been <em>destroyed,</em> consumed by a ravenous horde of tourists-as-locusts, though... That was quite fine. <br/><br/>“Even that book about the famous night, Donkey Hoti, or whatever. That had a lot of fanfiction about it, and just like that Sir Vantes proved, a story can continue beyond it's natural endpoint!” <br/><br/>Slamming his fist into the table (such passion!), he deflated a little at Yuri's slight laughter. <br/><br/>“Cervantes... Actually rather disliked all the attention, since he – wasn't getting paid for any of it.” <br/><br/>“Oh. I see. Well, my point still stands. I'm weeping for my life I have to leave behind, but that's nothing compared to the superawesome life I'm going to walk into, full-force.” <br/><br/>He wasn't saying it for his benefit, of course. <br/>Sayori laughed, a little. <br/><br/>“I bet you will, buster. I'm sure you will... Well, for me, I'm just happy we did it. I – felt like we'd fail.” <br/><br/>“What, really?!” <br/><br/>Natsuki perked up, frowning imperceptibly. <br/><br/>“Yep. From the very first moment we discussed it. I'm not as good a VP as Monika is president; I'm clumsy, and a little scatterbrained. And it's easy for me to assume that, ehehehe, that things aren't going to work out. So imagine my surprise that they did.” <br/><br/>“Tsch, Monika this, Monika that. She barely helped!” <br/><br/>“As much as I tend to disagree with loud men... He's quite right, you know.” <br/><br/>“<em>Thank</em> you, Yuri. I mean! She was in, and out, and just kinda vanished for the last few weeks! Hell, outside of our little intro, was she even <em>here?</em>” <br/><br/>Outside, the wind was blowing pleasantly. It was cool and refreshing, even though it carried with it a hint of the warm summer air. <br/><br/>All four of them sat, lost in thought. <br/><br/>“I – I guess that's true, but she's probably got a lot on her plate. I bet Monika is really worried about schools and... Graduation, and things like that. Let's not push our worries onto her, all right?” <br/><br/>Sayori said, amicably, and that was that. <br/><br/>Nobody wanted to make the one person in the room who had a right to feel put-upon feel put-upon because they were up-in-arms for her sake. And besides; everything had turned out pleasantly, and the thing that bothered Yuri, that had bothered her for some time... <br/><br/>Wasn't quite the same as what bothered the rest of them. <br/><br/>So naturally, the topic turned to that most terrible and unknowable of things: <br/>The future. <br/><br/>“I mean, I've got my first three or so months planned out, but after that, I'll have to find a better job.” <br/><br/>His comments indicated that he was talking about the city, but Yuri and Natsuki knew the truth. Specifically, after finding out that Sayori was headed to <em>France,</em> he'd quietly tried to figure out if it was because she wanted to be away. <br/><br/>When he'd felt certain that wasn't the case, he'd tried to work a little harder... A <em>lot</em> harder. <br/>And it probably wasn't enough, because his grades were about as good as theirs, which was to say they could've been better. <br/><br/>But he was trying, and as – someone had once told her... <br/><br/>“That's the spirit! This bad girl actually got accepted into a culinary institute!.. Sort of. It turns out becoming a pâtissier is pretty complex. And, well, it probably won't pay enough to live off of. Bahahahaha!” <br/><br/>“You really shouldn't laugh about something so important, Natsuki.” <br/><br/>“Mmn, well. I could choose not to laugh, but – sometimes you've just gotta!” <br/><br/>“I'll – try to remember that.” <br/><br/>And she would. <br/>She absolutely would. <br/><br/>“Well, speaking for myself... My grades are just barely there. I should be fine. Hopefully this means I can cut my parents off, a bit...” <br/><br/>“Y'know, Yuri, wouldn't most people refer to it as the reverse?” <br/><br/>“I don't want to live on their generosity. Even if – as it turns out, living off of instant meals and barely buying anything is... Not exactly a high-expense lifestyle...” <br/><br/>She held her head in her hand as Natsuki chortled. <br/><br/>“<em>Anyway.</em> I guess that means I'm the only person here who's... Planning to stay, then.” <br/><br/>The most powerful bridges are the ones you build between people; and, simultaneously, the vastest distances are those that occur as your relationships shift. <br/><br/>It is a mistake to think that these changes are permanent, as nothing is. <br/><br/>But it is not wrong to feel lost, or confused, or sad; and she felt all of these things as they struggled to rebuild what their futures might look like. Reality had settled in, like spring; and was just as merciless as any long March. <br/><br/>“Yeah, well... I'll be sure to visit you and check in from time to time.” <br/><br/>He said, and Natsuki snorted – just <em>barely</em> managing to avoid saying <em>'from FRANCE?'</em> with a cheeky grin. <br/><br/>“Naturally. I'll make sure to have a kettle on, if you're... In the area.” <br/><br/>“Ooooo, Yuri... I feel like we're all leaving you behind!” <br/><br/>“Maybe it's the reverse. You're all following big dreams, in a way. Mine are very modest, and perhaps that's – not bad, but...” <br/><br/>Yuri fidgeted. <br/><br/>She'd <em>felt</em> so right about this before, and it suddenly felt... Not wrong, but confused. Jumbled up and at odds with itself. <br/><br/>That – faded, because Sayori's hugs were soft and tender. <br/><br/>“Anyway. Ehehe, guess that means we'll just have to meet up, in a month or a year or sooner! And... Go fishing, and watch fireworks...” <br/><br/>“Yes...” <br/><br/>Mumbled Yuri, and she didn't even think to ask what the two had in common. <br/>It didn't matter. <br/><br/>“Well, I'm – when I'm in France, I'll write you all a lot. I think I'll need to, or I'll forget who I am. That's – really scary, to me. Because everybody has more than one person inside of them, and sometimes that person is unfamiliar.” <br/><br/>“I think I'd like anybody inside of you – “ <br/><br/>He blurted out, before <em>crushing</em> his head against his palms. <br/>Sayori didn't have the mercy to avoid giggling, but she didn't tease him further. (Which Yuri felt was a pity, because... It would've probably been rather fun.) <br/><br/>“ – I mean, I, just... So, people change. When I look back at the me from two years ago, I feel like I was an asshole. Maybe – that's how the me two years from now'll look at me.” <br/><br/>Nobody spoke, and he sighed into his hands. <br/><br/>“But I guess you can't really control that. And maybe trying is what makes everybody so tired, or uncertain. I'd rather live, and try to – be who I am, today.” <br/><br/>“A sappy guy who likes speeches?” <br/><br/>“Natsuki, you runt, I'm gonna – “ <br/><br/>“Try it, and I'll <em>end your life.</em>” <br/><br/>“Sayori, Yuri's bullying me. Make her cut it out.” <br/><br/>“Ehehe, all right, you... Three! Don't fight, or I'll destroy all of you!” <br/><br/>In place, three separate sets of feet whirled, and three separate sets of hand touched the floor. Sayori laughed again, punching the air at this genuflection and show of subservience, but was merciful enough to not destroy anyone. <br/><br/>“But I mean, I'll... Miss this club, terribly.” <br/><br/>And she hadn't. Wouldn't have been able to say that, at first. <br/>She could recall the moments that it had been just a getaway for her to hide behind a book, with the intention of leering at men. <br/><br/>So that she could return to an empty house, and hide there, as well. <br/><br/>Now, however... <br/><br/>“Okay, everyone!~ Excellent work, today!” <br/><br/>Monika burst in with as much force as she ever had held, already having changed into street clothes. It seemed – a little sad, and Yuri had wanted to compliment her on such an excellent literary reference, but – perhaps more than anything, Monika wanted this to be over. <br/><br/>“I can say you all did wonderfully. Oh, but there's so much more I <em>want </em>to say! About how you made this exhibition really shine, all of you! But, graduation is gonna be soon, and I think it's best that we enjoy this victory, and rest up – prepared for the future!~” <br/><br/>“Well, actually, Sayori and I were thinking of going to get some food. Pizza, or something. Maybe all of us?” <br/><br/>He offered, and Monika's face... <br/>It was strange. <br/><br/>How strange was an expression that conveyed nothing at all. <br/><br/>“That sounds like a great idea!~” <br/><br/>She remembered to smile, as she said it. <br/><br/>“Maybe next time, when the mood strikes me.” <br/><br/>“Hey, Monika, there might not <em>be</em> a next time. I mean, I don't even know what you're up to. So, if you'd like to come along – you really could, y'know? I didn't even <em>see you</em> today, though I did save you some of the best stuff!” <br/><br/>Natsuki's powerful wink might have disabled the heart of any nearby ruffian, but... <br/><br/>Monika waved, meekly, and shook her head. <br/><br/>“I'm just gonna clean up, thanks. As the president, I have a lot of extra stuff on my mind, there's no need to stretch things out!~” <br/><br/>“All – I guess...” <br/><br/>Turning away, Natsuki frowned. <br/>It was the same thing they'd discussed before; a strange and unusual hesitation in time, like Monika desperately wanted something, that none of them could provide. <br/><br/>But there was nothing more to say, and the four of them filtered out... <br/><br/>Only for Yuri to mumble something about forgetting something that Natsuki <em>knew</em> was an excuse, and promise that she'd join them later.</p><p>It wasn't that long ago she'd felt the same, after all. <br/><br/>And, so...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. XVI. devil's paintbrush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Here is the secret of all atmosphere. <br/>The most powerful trick to overcome the senses is not lighting, nor layout. Neither plants nor scents nor comforting things. The proper place for objects has no effect on the human psyche; the only true atmosphere in all the world is the effect human beings have on one another. <br/><br/>Therefore, a room with only one person in it can be an overwhelmingly lonely thing. </em> <br/><br/>“Oh. Yuri.” <br/><br/>Monika was standing, facing the back of the classroom; reading and reading streamers with bits of poetry on them, or pretending to. <br/><br/>She made no attempt to affect her usual devilish charm. <br/>None, at all. <br/><br/>“I... Thought I'd forgotten some liquor I'd hidden here, and didn't want you to get in trouble – “ <br/><br/>“That seems a bit out of character for you, doesn't it?” <br/><br/>“... Hmn?” <br/><br/>What a strange turn of phrase; could anyone <em>truly</em> be out of character with themselves? Yuri felt certain that people changed so regularly, had so many sides to them, that even the most outre act had a hidden meaning to the person who performed it. <br/><br/>For some reason, the words rankled her. She said nothing about that. <br/><br/>“Maybe so. But, you know... There's a lot of mess, here. It seems a bit unfair to the president to let her clean it up on her own..!” <br/><br/>“A president who did nothing, for a club that doesn't matter.” <br/><br/>Monika turned in place, and <em>smiled.</em> <br/>Like before, it was the kind of smile that could demolish you; eliminate all resistance and replace it with a heart-pounding affection, dyed green and left to rot in the most beautiful manner imaginable. <br/><br/>Yuri felt her heart pound, but ignored it. <br/>Because even more, she was... <br/><br/>“That's hardly true!” <br/><br/><em> angry. <br/><strong>furious.</strong> </em> <br/><br/>What had given Monika the right to stay here by herself and feel that she wasn't worthwhile? No, it wasn't Yuri's right to tell her otherwise, either, but – neither was it Monika's to say that this place that had <em>saved</em> her, had helped her save <em>herself,</em> had been pointless..? <br/><br/>“Hey. Sayori.” <br/><br/>“It's – Yuri, Monika.” <br/><br/>“Mmn. Quick question!~ Weren't you supposed to graduate <em>last</em> spring? Wasn't that the whole point of the lit club's festival?” <br/><br/>She froze in place, gripped by an unquiet feeling of dread – and then quickly shook it off. <br/><br/>“I... You know I was held back, Monika.” <br/><br/>“Oh, right, right. Silly me. Clumsy, huh. Har, har, <em>har.</em>” <br/><br/>Monika wasn't smiling. <br/>You could not arrange teeth at such an angle, talk about such a sincere self-hatred, and call the thing she had a <em>smile.</em> <br/><br/>“So, Yuri. There's a videogame. You like those, right?” <br/><br/>“Not... Really...” <br/><br/>But Monika just begin talking, and talking about an old piece that featured an unlikable protagonist, entirely past his prime. One who spends the entire game failing, only to be killed and replaced by a mirror of himself, cooler and more successful – that just rides throughout an empty and blighted world. <br/><br/>As she rambled on, she lay back against a desk and stared at the ceiling, and Yuri was keenly aware at just how exhausted Monika's profile always was. Monika saw her, staring, and smirked. <br/><br/>“... Point is, there's no real point. It's like rewinding a tape until the tape gets chewed up, and there's nothing left but all the guts of the tape, spilled out on the table. You <em>like</em> that sort of thing, right? Yuri?” <br/><br/>“I do.” <br/><br/>Monika frowned as she didn't try to fight it at all, but – this wasn't the Monika she knew. <br/><br/>And, perhaps it was the stupid courage given to her by a costume she didn't care for, woven delicately by a girl that she <em>did.</em> Or perhaps it was how far she'd come, and wanting to never leave another person in that place, again..! <br/><br/>“But that's <em>part</em> of me. How long have you been feeling... Like...” <br/><br/>“Oh, I don't really <em>feel</em> anything. You should run along. For you, it'll feel real. And that's all that matters, right?” <br/><br/>Yuri felt something, a tug; wanted to hold forth about a certain esoteric sect she'd read about. <br/>Literature, however, would be of no help, here. <br/><br/>Which was fine; she had something else. <br/><br/>“... I think, it wouldn't really feel real at all, without you.” <br/><br/>“Oh?~ And why is that?” <br/><br/>“Right now, you'd shrug it off if I told you it was because you're a friend. Mostly, it's because I resented you, terribly.” <br/><br/>“I – hahaha, really...” <br/><br/>“Y, yes. <em>You could do <strong>everything</strong> I couldn't.</em> Monika, you can even – play the piano..!” <br/><br/>“Badly.” <br/><br/>And yet, Monika smiled an infinitely melancholy smile. <br/>Her fingers played at the back of her ponytail. <br/><br/>“When you see someone stronger than yourself, you often – wish that you were more like them. The moment I saw you, I thought... Maybe I can be like that, too. And... And I can't. Because I'm <em>me.</em> But that's just made me appreciate you more.” <br/><br/>Monika stared up at the ceiling, then out the window. Her piercing green eyes focused on a distant horizon, and it was possibly one that Yuri couldn't see; might never see. <br/><br/>“But I'll be faking it if I'm there. I'm always faking it, Yuri. It's so <em>exhausting.</em> And I don't know why I try.” <br/><br/>“Then I can't... I won't force you. Because I can, at least... Understand that.” <br/><br/>“... You probably can, can't you?” <br/><br/>“Maybe a little.” <br/><br/>Carefully, Monika shut the windows. The sound of the breeze died, and all in the room was silent. Monika stared at the streamers as if she wished to tear them all to pieces – or to protect them utterly, for all time. <br/><br/>“But, Monika. Thank you, for creating a place that meant so much. To <em>me.</em>” <br/><br/>Yuri bowed her head low, as elegantly as she had ever managed. <br/>This time, it was near-perfect. Not the clumsy routine of a beast, or perhaps... A beast, still, but one that could still consider herself a fine lady, all the same. <br/><br/>Monika shut her eyes. Perhaps she wished to cry, to say something; perhaps she wished for nothing at all. <br/><br/>The small pizzeria they'd chosen to spend their official meeting at was one of those eateries who could only be called 'western' or 'pizzeria' in the loosest of terms, but remained cosy all the same. Natsuki scooched to the side of the booth as Yuri joined her, grateful for a familiar warmth. <br/><br/>“So, how'd it go? Any luck getting her attention?” <br/><br/>“I'm sorry, Natsuki. I'm afraid my magical girl powers are... Somewhat weaker than expected. I couldn't restore her heart.” <br/><br/>The conversation was – silly, because it helped distract her from the failure. <br/>Monika did not want to open up to anyone; perhaps she felt she couldn't. <br/>That was that, then. <br/><br/>But... Perhaps a day would come where she might. <br/><br/>“So, uh, what do we want to cheer about...” <br/><br/>He begin, trying to mend the atmosphere – which had already began to mend <em>itself, </em>because they had the future to look forward to... No matter what sorrows it <em>would</em> hold. <br/><br/>“Ehehe, I'd like to go first. And it's – very important to me, so. Here goes!” <br/><br/>Sayori stood up, nearly hitting one of the low-hanging bars. <br/>Her musical laughter as she cleared her throat preceded a very quiet, almost mournful whisper. <br/><br/>“I didn't think I'd make it so far. And I'm super scared about tomorrow. And every other day, yet to come.” <br/><br/>Pursing her lips, she shut her eyes. <br/><br/>“When I think about what you all mean to me, it hurts a lot. And I don't like having to think about it. It gets mixed in with all the other things I have to think about, and I start to forget – “ <br/><br/>“Sayori...” <br/><br/>“ – But I've started to think... That might be okay, too. And I'd rather hurt, and know all of you, then fade away from this place and feel like a castaway. I don't know what else is out there, ehehe. I just know I want it to have you all in it... And <em>me,</em> too.” <br/><br/>Nobody said anything else; what else was there to say? <br/><br/>Pizza had arrived, and everyone ate in peace. <br/><br/>Yuri had so much she wanted to say, too; but it felt lost and locked up in her heart. Not because she'd sealed it away, but because she needed to think about it more, to know what might make the moment right. <br/><br/>Before she had found what she needed to say, for herself, the bell above the door rang; and the restaurant's door opened.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope I somewhat made up for the lack of Monika in the previous story.<br/>She's had a lot to say behind the scenes, if you look carefully.</p><p>And although I truly don't care about 'meta' this or 'meta' that, the pressure of that feels a lot like many other things.<br/>Really, I just hope I gave her a moment of her own.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. .Oyasumi Punpun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had just finished visiting the Yamamura's tomb marker. <br/><br/>It was especially modest, because that's what they'd requested. Only herself and Toshio were present; and that was quite fine. <br/><br/>On a fair summer's day, perhaps being alone with people who know you is the most wonderful thing imaginable. <br/><br/>“Guess that'll be that, then. S'pose you'll be needing to head to the airport later. You sure you don't need a lift?” <br/><br/>“I'm fine. You should be more worried about yourself!” <br/><br/>She elbowed him, and he sighed, wincing in faux-pain. <br/><br/>“My back'll be just fine, Mashiro. I think I can get down a hillock without falling over, even if the pounds just keep on coming... Later. Mom, pa.” <br/><br/>They walked down the hillock in silence, and parted in silence. <br/>Something she had learned dearly was that silence did not need to be an enemy; it could be a sign of respect, or friendship, loud as any conversation. <br/><br/>Despite her love for the Genmei, work had necessitated something with more heft... Which had involved a pickup truck of her very own. It was new, too. She'd wanted to get something old and cantankerous as she sometimes felt, but... <br/><br/>Overhead, clouds drifted like whispers of sheep, or unformed dreams. <br/><br/>Someone had sent her a timelapse of clouds passing, on sunny days. She'd watched it several times, unsure of how it made her feel; but she'd watched it several times, all the same. <br/><br/>No longer did the city feel so far-off, or impossible. Very occasionally, she even drove in to see her parents. And although both of them would have preferred if she'd found a career with more economic prospects, they were happy with her decision, all the same. <br/><br/>The airport here had been protested several times, for reasons unknown to Yuri. What she did know is that, even lost and confused, even wearing very fashionable clothes and cute glasses that she probably didn't need... <br/><br/>“SAYORI!” <br/><br/>“YURI!” <br/><br/>And Sayori paused; her lips half-pursed and open. <br/><br/>“Ooooh, we're <em>sunhat sisters – </em>“ <br/><br/>It was as if they had never left. <br/><br/>Sayori had rolled the window down, and was letting her hand stick out of it, with a peaceful expression. Yuri very much wanted to tell her that wasn't healthy or safe, probably, but... <br/><br/>“You look exceptionally well.” <br/><br/>“I am, ehehehe! A little tired of France, but not exactly tired of <em>France.</em> Ready to be home, and to sleep for a thousand years!” <br/><br/>“One thousand, hmn... How frightening...” <br/><br/>“Well, if you don't want me to sleep for a thousand years, you'll have to keep me busy! This Sayori is a whirlwind of trouble, who brought all sorts of souvenirs!” <br/><br/>“Even if you hadn't, I would've picked you up, you know...” <br/><br/>“But I love giving them out, though...” <br/><br/>Pretending to pout, Sayori pulled her hand in. Her purse was puffy and looked as if it had been taken from a particularly fashionable wallpaper. Several small boxes rattled around inside, and Sayori looked as if she <em>wanted</em> to show them off <em>right now,</em> but had quickly thought better of it. <br/><br/>“Well – I may have some small gifts for you, too. But I do love... Being treated nicely, by someone as adorable as you, so...” <br/><br/>“Eeeee, ehehehe! Don't steal my heart like that! Well, how about – “ <br/><br/>“Mmmmn. Who can say...” <br/><br/>Yuri said, trying her best to sound cool and aloof, and failing on both accounts. <br/>Sayori giggled riotously, and then <em>also</em> tried to look cool and aloof, her mid-length hair coppery and bright as she worked it through her fingers. <br/><br/>(Her eyebrows waggled, waiting for a question.) <br/><br/>“So, then. How about... A certain fellow...” <br/><br/>“<em>WhoOOooOooo, can saaaaay!</em>” <br/><br/>She'd missed laughing like this, with friends. <br/>Work kept her quite busy, most days, and she enjoyed the silence of long nights. Not because she had nowhere to go, or nobody she wished to spend time with, but... <br/><br/>“I'm feeling – better about the future, at least. I hadn't expected my professor to be so – cruel. And it really took a lot out of me. I just wanted to fly home, into your arms, and go... Yuri! Save me!” <br/><br/>“But you didn't, though. Naturally... I wouldn't have saved you, even if you'd begged.” <br/><br/>“Monster..!” <br/><br/>There was an old intersection here, still in disrepair and left unmodernised after all these years. Yuri watched the lights work their way down, only glancing at the radiant face to her side from time to time. <br/><br/>“But even if you <em>are</em> a monster, I guess I'm the monster's friend! Oh... I really did miss you, though. And having time to myself. Being an adult is so terrible, isn't it?” <br/><br/>“<em>Absolutely.</em>” <br/><br/>Growled Yuri, and Sayori burst into laughter again. <br/>Perhaps that was what people missed about her; the idea that because she could laugh easily and freely, she was not... Complex. <br/><br/>Would she have thought that, once before? <br/>Yuri couldn't remember, and felt that even if she had – such was the past. <br/><br/>“So. I am your virtual chauffeur today. Since Monika is... Visiting Hawai'i or whatever – “ <br/><br/>“Oh, I <em>know</em> all about that. Muhuhuh!” <br/><br/>“Muh... Huhuh?” <br/><br/>“That's Sayori-Monika code. I'm afraid it's top-secret clearance, former literature club official alumni only! But – it's a good sort of surprise. Oh, I guess I spoiled a bit...” <br/><br/>“Did you, now... Wait! Don't distract me! Where are we headed, Sayori?” <br/><br/>“To the ice-cream dungeon.” <br/><br/>“Very well. Ice-cream dungeon, here we go...” <br/><br/>Although there was no ice-cream dungeon, there was always a young person (in this particular instance, a young man wearing an unidentifiable tank top and looking endlessly bored) operating an ice-cream truck. After Sayori's feral hunger had been satiated... <br/><br/>She lay back in her seat, looking a little wistful. <br/>Neither happy, nor sad. <br/>But present; here. <br/><br/><em>Alive.</em> <br/><br/>“Probably, I should go home. My parents are probably... Gonna ask me all the wrong questions, as usual.” <br/><br/>“I suppose that's all parents, for you. Try not to hold it against them.” <br/><br/>“Oh, I... I won't.” <br/><br/>They drove in silence, and Sayori hugged her only as the pickup truck rumbled to a stop. It was a very soft and ephemeral hug, but it was incredibly tight, all the same. <br/><br/>“Well, this is my stop. I just wanted to let you know that I adore you. That you are an amazing friend, and every time I read a book I don't really like, I think of you, and wish I could hear <em>why</em> you like it. I miss that every day..!” <br/><br/>“... And, I... I...” <br/><br/>“Ehehehe, don't feel like you have to say anything else. Let's have dinner tonight! I wanna have lobster!” <br/><br/>“Fine. If you can find a place here that serves lobster, I'll – see you, later.” <br/><br/>Yuri resisted the urge to wave as Sayori entered into a house she'd long since outgrown. Waving was a farewell; and farewells were unnecessary. The only time you truly needed them, you couldn't count on them, after all. <br/><br/>... <br/><br/>Her house was the same as ever, and her mailbox – which she'd actually cleaned out properly – was overstuffed. Grumbling in the way only people who live out in the country can grumble, she resisted the urge to mow it down, and instead shoved fistfuls of junk mail onto the passenger seat. <br/><br/>Although, there wasn't just junk mail. <br/><br/>Yuri opened the unlocked door, and thoughtfully removed her shoes. <br/><br/>The first letter was written in unmistakeable handwriting. <br/><br/><em> YaaaaaahoooooOOooo! Y~u~r~i!~ <br/><br/>(Forgive the selfie, I know you're not nearly as interested in that as I am. But if you visit a famous place, you have to take a photo, right? Otherwise, is it even really real..? And look at King DBZ over here! What a dude!) <br/><br/>Okay, so, where to begin. I thought and thought about what to write here without it sounding like an advertisement. There's – so much on my mind. I think the tropics really are good for clearing out your brain a bit, although I'm looking forward to being back home. <br/><br/></em> Settling against a couch that was a bit too short for her, and had instead been selected to accommodate someone a bit smaller, Yuri thumbed through the letter. <br/><br/><em> Honestly, when I wander around places like this, I think about the history a lot. <br/><br/>Do you know there's a story behind every cavern, here? A lot of them are really tragic. Not the sort of tragedy you enjoy, but – really tragic. Unreal, I guess. I think about that a lot, too. Sorry, not trying to get the tone down, but... I've always been better at writing about these things than talking about them face to face. <br/><br/>Thanks for understanding that, by the way. &lt;3 <br/><br/></em> Yuri traced the written heart, and shut her eyes. <br/><br/><em> Anyway. I'm not supposed to tell you why I'm here, and it fits my incredible image to just have up and left for Hawai'i so, just pretend that it was a flight of fancy. <br/><br/>But you'll probably figure it out soon enough if you haven't figured it out already! Isn't that need? Are you feeling the suspense? I'd be feeling pretty suspenseful, suspended... Hmn. I wonder how to write that best? Let me know if you have an idea! <br/><br/>Right now, though, I just wanted to – wait. <br/><br/></em> “I can't wait, Monika... It's a letter.” <br/><br/>Grumbling, Yuri flipped the letter over, and another picture fell out; this one having been inside the letter proper. <br/><br/><em> You can probably see the waves best like this. <br/>They don't mean much to me. I tried to surf, and it was a bust! <br/>But, somehow... Anyway, they're there. Just think on that. Reflect on it! I'll know if you aren't! <br/><br/>Still don't know what I'm doing here. <br/><br/>Can't quite decide on where to go next. <br/>That means you should meet up with me, when I get back, we should go get hella drunk, and you should come up with a place for me to head to, next. <br/><br/>And I wouldn't mind anymore recommendations. Though I can't say the Hyperion Cantos are exactly light reading, you got my taste in one!.. Well, one of my tastes. I like being an enigma. <br/><br/>Hmn, what else to add... <br/><br/>It's kind of weird seeing you with a tan. Short hair, too. It feels like something is deeply wrong with the universe. Maybe I just couldn't predict it, so I'm feeling a bit punchy!.. <br/>But it's nice, too. <br/><br/>You look healthy. <br/><br/>So, uh, that's me! Still struggling, but still enjoying all there is to enjoy in the world. <br/>Let's meet up again, soon. <br/>Until then! <br/><br/></em> Yuri half-wanted to laugh and tell the letter her hair was already growing back; it was untameable, no matter how curious a certain person had been about how it had looked, short. Even still... <br/><br/>Oh, she truly <em>had</em> to get a modern cellphone, one of these days... <br/><br/>And there was one more letter. <br/><br/>There was no need for the sender to have sent it as a letter, because they saw each other from time to time. Not so much as she liked, of course, because she was terribly greedy, and terribly lonely. <br/>But, even when you are with those you love – who isn't..? <br/><br/>Yet, the fact she had sent it as a letter... <br/><br/>The letter itself was a formal invitation to the opening of a certain bakery. Whether it would succeed or fail, that was a difficult question. Bakeries tended not to do very well, just like restaurants. It was a cut-throat, brutal business... <br/><br/>But if Yuri had been asked, she felt certain the person in question would do well. <br/><br/>On the other side of the invitation, however... <br/><br/><em> Happy birthday, Mashiro. Yeah, I know, I'm late. Bite me! <br/><br/></em> “No. Not even if you insist...” <br/><br/>Grumbled Yuri, rolling around in the couch as if the writer could see it. <br/><br/><em> I – realise it's kind of difficult doing things this way, and although I thought becoming an independent urban baker would propel me to even more awesome heights, that didn't quite work out. So, uh, I know it's bad luck to start off these sorts of letters with a confession... <br/><br/>Long-distance relationships are difficult. I thought I'd be a bit more conservative, and I'm not, and it sucks. And, well, that's where this letter comes in – not the invitation, sorry, I sent that first because I was proud! <br/><br/></em> “As you very well should be.” <br/><br/>Yuri sniffed, and then laughed – even though nobody was here to hear it. <br/><br/><em> But I – I suddenly realised that even though I want to be successful, I also hate being so distant. So, I know you'll probably turn it down, but... </em> <br/><br/>At her side, Yuri had kept a manga she'd been reading; read and re-read, actually. <br/><br/>Natsuki's promise that it was only to be read if she'd grown too attached had been one thing, but as times changed, promises changed. As their conversations had made it clear that – it was somewhat difficult, for Natsuki, too... <br/><br/>Yuri had read the damn thing. <br/><br/><em>She had adored it, to the very end.</em> <br/><br/>Then she'd read it, and re-read it, and re-read it again, for good measure. Probably would re-read it a fifth (sixth?) time, making it all the more funny that it wasn't one Natsuki particularly cared for, but had been chosen because – because she'd hoped Yuri would enjoy it, and derive some meaning from it. <br/><br/>And there was a reason it had come to mind. <br/><br/><em> ... When I was thinking about what I wanted, and what that meant to me, it sounded so selfish in my head. Like 'oh, Natsuki, you can't possibly ask for something so stupid.' But that's me. I always try to be honest, even when it hurts. Try, I mean. <br/><br/>So, here goes. <br/>Feel free to turn it down, if you want. <br/>I don't know when I'll have a better chance, though. <br/>So... So... <br/><br/></em> Here was a portrait of a woman who had built a life for herself. Her house was pleasant, a warm drab place that held the soul tightly, and lit it as a candle, warmed against the heart. Occasionally, a young woman appeared, like a cat – and vanished into the night, to return only forewarned by the scent of flour, upon the wind. <br/><br/>She pursued the things she felt she enjoyed, and she enjoyed them. She worked hard, and tried to make her work matter for others, and for the world she loved so consumptively. <br/><br/>And yet... <br/><br/>The cellphone was dead plastic in her hand, and she disregarded her earlier insistence on wanting something new. This was important to her, and no matter what... <br/>Her digits struck each key somewhat clumsily, without care for precision. <br/><br/>The reply came almost instantly. <br/><br/><em> For real? <br/><br/></em> Yuri bit her lip, stared at the ceiling. <br/><br/>No literary phantasms called out to her, or could help with this particular quandary if they tried. No patterns in the ceiling held deep insight into a mystery that begin and ended in her heart; and of that, all was fine. <br/><br/>And she wrote her own reply.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. . twilight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>You promised so many beautiful things<br/>that turned to grains of sand <br/>where our feet danced <br/>together. <br/><br/>And now this light <br/>upon my back <br/>reminds me <br/>of you. <br/><br/>But the sun has faded <br/>and there is a shadow against the sea<br/>instead of letting it pull you adrift <br/>think of only me. <br/><br/>Let me be your gentle night <br/>that reminds you of all you're worth <br/>who whispers songs tenderly <br/>even though neither of us <br/>can sing. <br/><br/>For all the times the shore <br/>made your castles drown <br/>we'll watch the glow of jellyfish <br/>wearing moonlight as their crown. <br/><br/>Despite your radiant smile <br/>it seems this twilight can't meet you <br/>yet; <br/>and we'll have to meet <br/>in the odd hours <br/>when you catch me, in your net. <br/><br/>But if filtered as silver <br/>through your palms <br/>I can steal away your frown <br/>let my fingers comb through your hair <br/>as we circle down. <br/><br/>Here, we'll follow the rabbits of the floor; <br/>racing nowhere in particular <br/>or here, forevermore. <br/><br/>There we'll watch the whales surface <br/>and look at the pale moon. <br/><br/>But I, I can only think of you. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Once more, we're here, and once more I am at a loss for words.</p><p>Sorry for disappearing on everyone. A lot of terrible things happened.  This story is the result of one of them.<br/>I do not usually like shipping (even though I love writing/reading shipping) because I feel as if I'm putting words in the mouth of others... Ah, you might say, but they're just words in the first place. Hum, who knows.</p><p>But - someone I thought would always be in my life for one way or another left a bit before me.<br/>I suppose I am still sorting those feelings, and will be for some time to come. On top of all the rest of it, the world is truly a wretched cage, isn't it?..</p><p>This is a story, and my resolution to where story of a lily ended. I believe in happy endings, and good things, and sunlight, even now.<br/>And I hope it stands on those merits, on its own.</p><p>... I also had a 'secret poem' as it were, but it was maudlin, and poorly written.</p><p>No words can change the past.</p><p>But if any of you out there take anything from this story, I am happy.<br/>Regardless of the manner of love, tell those you care for you cherish them, always.<br/>No matter how foolish it may sound. You never know when the chance will pass you by.</p><p>And to those I've lost touch with; I'm sorry. It's been a terribly long five decades in three years or so, hasn't it...<br/>I'd say I'll try to stay in touch, but I'm dreading march. Work persists more than I do, it feels like.<br/>... But I do pray that things will be better, constantly.</p><p>And I pray that you enjoyed this, as well.<br/>May it bring some light to you, when you need it most.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>